Darkness Weeps
by Enkanowen
Summary: **Completed** A/U Legolas takes the ring from Frodo and takes over Middle Earth. Expanded roles for Celeborn, Haldir, Galadriel, Glorfindel and the hobbits. Very dark and violent. Read disclaimer as there is slash contained within.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer... read as it is large...well not really cause well... This is rated R for the sex and X for the violence... or was that the other way around? ANyhow, this gets pretty gruesome, gory, disturbing and evil. So be aware that if you have a fragile stomach you might want to skim the bad parts.  
  
No Chapters this time, just installments... sorry  
  
Characters: Look it's the Fellowship! Well actually the main characters are Legolas, Haldir, Celeborn, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Frodo, but galadriel, Elrond, all the men and Gimli have smaller parts. (can you say epic?)  
  
Timeline: the story is told five years after Legolas gets ahold of the ring. *** indicates flashbacks and the return from flashbacks, as there are a lot. This is very Alternative Universe (A/U) and basically every character makes not that "this isn't supposed to be happening"  
  
Required Materials: "Poor Frodo" Flag, you'll need it. "Go for the elfhood" and "Go Galadriel" (eventually "Go Elrond" and "Go Sam")  
  
Darkness Weeps inside his Heart  
  
By Enkanowen  
  
  
  
"You mustn't speak so loudly," the taller of two figures cloaked in the shadows whispered.  
  
"It is important that you listen to me," the tall but not as tall shadow moved closer to the other one. A slender hand came from under the dark cloak, caressing the face hidden beneath a large hood.  
  
"What you suggest is dangerous, extremely dangerous. We are not worth even contemplating such a fate," the taller figure moved away from the touch, "how can you think of this?! how can you think of this so easily without considering the consequences!"  
  
Angrily the taller shadow turned away from the smaller figure.  
  
"Listen," defeated was the voice of the smaller figure, "I am foolish and deserve to be thrown into the Halls of Mandos eternally." He moved behind the taller shadow, pale arms wrapping themselves around a slender waist, "I would condemn my soul just to be with you, my love."  
  
The taller figure slowly turned around, embracing the smaller one. "I know my love, I know. You're young and eager. But promise me one thing."  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Never speak of what you spoke of before."  
  
"I promise, my love, I'll never speak of such foolishness again." He laid his head upon the chest of the taller shadow.  
  
"I love you, you know. I love you more than anything, but the price you would pay is much too high. For these shores, even the shores of Valinor. It would kill you, and I could not bear losing you to the arms of evil."  
  
"I'm sorry," the smaller figure looked up, "I did not wish to cause you pain."  
  
The taller figure nodded.  
  
"I know, and I want you to know that I trust you, my love." The taller figure turned the smaller shadow to face him and caressed his face under the hood, pulling him closer, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss, growing more passionate.  
  
The hood of the smaller figure fell and revealed a mane of golden hair, braided from his face. The taller figure's kiss moved from the full red lips along the defined jawline toward his neck. A sigh escaped the smaller figure as sharp teeth nipped his neck lovingly. His arms moved about under the cloak of the taller figure unclasping the leaf brooch fastening it by the neck.  
  
"Love me," he whispered into the pointed ear as the dark cloak fell to the ground.  
  
The mark of a Lorien high guard embroidered upon the dark green tunic.  
  
"Yes," he whispered.  
  
***  
  
Haldir a bit away from a small fire, his head resting upon his knees. Green eyes were hazed by deep though. He remembered that night. Every night since then, he had reflected upon it, looked for a change within his lover. Gone over the events over and over again, yet he could not find the answer.  
  
***  
  
"To you Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, I bestow onto you, my bow."  
  
Galadriel spoke, as Haldir gave the beautifully carved bow to the blonde elf standing in front of him. A gentle smile greeted him, not a smile of greatefulness, but the smile of a lover.  
  
After the boats had been loaded, Haldir had gently pulled Legolas into the shadows of one of the great mallorn trees growing by the water of the Anduin. Their lips met in a longing kiss, though it was broken too soon for they wished to avoid being seen.  
  
"You must go,Legolas," Haldir gently drew himself out of the warm embrace. It hurt to let him go, but there was no other way.  
  
"I shall return, my love," the prince spoke quietly, "I shall return and be with you eternally."  
  
With those words he had turned, climbed nimbly down to the waters edge and gracefully jumped into the boat in which Gimli sat waiting for his friend. Haldir chuckled as the dwarf let an array of dwarvish insults come down upon Legolas for the boat had swayed awefully close to the water's surface and threatened to fall over. The Prince stood in the boat and pushed away from the shore, turning towards Haldir he waved and kneeled down to grab one of the paddles.  
  
***  
  
However this had not been the last time Haldir had seen Legolas. Before his mind could wander to this dreaded day, Sam held a small bowl of tea in front of his nose.  
  
"You have to drink up, Mr. Haldir," he smiles, "I know elves don't need to eat for a very long time, but me gaffer always says a good drink and a good meal can chase all sorrows away. Will you join us for supper?"  
  
Haldir smiled back. Sam was bluntly honest with the way he felt about things and what he thought, haldir felt refreshed by his mere presence. Collecting himself from the ground, the Lorien high guard joined the rest of the group that was sitting by the cooking fire. The hobbits Merry and Pippin quickly moved to either side patting the log beside them, offering him a seat.  
  
"Si' down me friend," Pippin brightly smiled and held out a bowl filled with some sort of paste. "Ha' somm' mash' potatoes, Haldir." He held the bowl higher under haldir's nose just as Sam had done with the tea.  
  
Opposite of him, Celeborn and Glorfindel hid their faces behind the bowls, their shoulders revealing the laughter. Looking at them, Haldir saw they already had been put under the hobbit food treatment for they sprouted half empty bowls with all sorts of food within them.  
  
What he had been told about hobbits was so true, it made him smile. They were indeed marvellous and resilliant peoples. Never had he met a race that could suffer torment and toil in one day and before the sun set have a large meal, a pipe and some ale and reflect upon what good could come from the situation.  
  
His face must have reflected his thoughts for Merry amicably nudged him, holding a spoon under his nose.  
  
"Be sure yer eat'em while they're hot. Better tha' way."  
  
Not wanting to disappoint the eager young hobbits, who had created a feast out of almost nothing, Haldir knew exactly what had made Celeborn and Glorfindel cave in for he was looked at by three pairs of large round eyes framed by a mess of curls. With a smile, he took a spoonful of the creamy substance.  
  
To his surprise, Sam had been right, with each bite comfort spread across his body and soothed his wounded mind. He finished the bowl, only to be offered a few sausages, tomatoes, some ale and finally some roasted mushrooms, though the hobbits seemed almost reluctant to give those up.  
  
Very unelven, Haldir finally hiccuped and declined another helping of sausages and fell backwards itno the grass.  
  
"Yeh su'rre yeh don' wan' more potatoes? Sausages? Tomatoes?" Pippin bent over the form of the elf that felt as if he were to explode any second. Haldir shook his head feverently.  
  
To his amusement, Glorfindel looked like he was going to be ill any moment and Celeborn looked anything but like the Lord of Lorien, laying sprawled out on the floor, the belt around his tunic loosened.  
  
"Elves," Pippin chuckled, "yeh dun' kno' how to ea' properly." He bit into two sausages he had pierced with his fork and helped himself to more mushrooms.  
  
Haldir closed his eyes, indulging in the sweet warmth that originated from his stomach. this was one of the few times in the past five years he had felt comfortable and content. For a few moments he was able to forget the occurances of the dark years that had fallen upon Middle Earth.  
  
With his eyes closed, he could imagine how the shores ahd been. He remembered once, there had been a time of peace. Five years should not seem this long for an elf, but they felt like an eternity. The feel of his lover's embrace was almost forgotten, it seemed all too long ago that he had rolled over the soft ground in the forests of Imladris, kissing Legolas' full lips gently, lovingly. He sighed and sat up.  
  
"Do you believe it is safe to rest here, Mr. Haldir?" Sam's worried face appeared in front of him. Sitting down, his eyes were almost at level with Sam's.  
  
"Safer than we ever will be in this place. Since we have crossed the Misty Mountains, we have entered his domain. Evil sleeps not in these lands, one of us will ahve to keep watch at all times. We have not many allies here and the forest of Lorien is far. but worry yourself not, Samwise, he has no interest in this place, and since we destroyed the Seeing Stones, he cannot watch our approach and has to rely on his messengers. And the all-seeing eye was blinded long ago, when he-" Haldir trailed off into an inaudible mumble for his throat tightened. He swallowed the tears trying to well up his green eyes.  
  
"We are safe, now seek rest for we all need our strength." Sam nodded and curled himself into his cloak. Haldir knew how brave he was, and considering the brutality and evil the hobbit had seen, he showed a most resilliant resitance to falling into despair.  
  
They were all risking everything, beyond their own lives. Lord Celeborn had left Lorien and set out to return the Lady Galadriel from his imprisonment. The hobbits had declined being escroted back to the Shire after Frodo's disappearance and insisted on reamining until they found Frodo. Aragorn and Boromir had set out South to warn the peoples of Gondor and Rohan of the pending evil and to prepare their armies. Rohan and Gondor had united and Aragorn had claimed the throne of Gondor merely a year after he had set out from Bree.  
  
The war had been short. Mordor had not posed the expected threat. From Mirkwood they had come, armies of beasts and spiders and elves and scattered the people of Rohan and Gondor. Many had died before they had been able to flee. Those who survived had fled to the elven cities of Rivendell and Lorien. Many hid in the mountains and those remaining in the south had become slaves to the fortress of Minas Morgul or lived in hiding.  
  
A gentle hand squeezed Haldir's shoulder, pulling him from his reflections. Celeborn sat down beside him, his face seemed tired from worry and war. Yet, it had kept the gentle glow of lordly elegance, determined were his grey eyes, blue speckles gave them a vibrant shimmer. He was beautiful. Tall, even for an elf, when he stood he towered almost a foot above Haldir. His limbs seemed elegantly elongated, he was more graceful than any elf Haldir had ever encountered.  
  
Long silver hair fell past his shoulders, streaked with golden sparkles, he needed no crown to be crowned a king. His features were pale, he seemed almost transperant during the rising of the sun, yet his body was lean, strong muscles flexed under hus skin when he moved. He had traded his silver robes for laced brown leather trousers, a linen tunic and brown jerkin. yet he still remained as royal as he had been in his gowns.  
  
"It seems I am not the only one who cannot find rest," the Lord of Lorien whispered. Haldir followed his gaze, seeing the hobbits toss and turn between the roots of the tree, Glorfindel crouched amongst the branches watching the night sky.  
  
"I see you are weary of this journey as well, Haldir."  
  
  
  
"My Lord," Haldir spoke, though Celeborn did not insist on his title anymore after five years, every now and then Haldir deemed the situation impostant enough, he would use his proper title, "I cannot close my eyes for all i see before me is his face. And I remember how things were when these shores were at peace, and I just-"  
  
"I understand," Celeborn spoke softly, "the same evil that took your beloved from you took my wife from me. But I intend to return her to Lorien safely, or perish trying."  
  
"Are you never worried? Do you never question whether she has done thing from her own will? That this great evil has slumbered within them all along? That perhaps they are lost forever?"  
  
"I know what it is you fear. It haunts you in your very soul that they might be beyond our aid. But do not be weary my friend. Where there is great eveil, there is always great good. Deep within us all, both good and evil is contained. It is the balance of the world. Sometimes we cannot control which aspect of us will take over the other, fate and destiny are beyond us all. We can only but walk the paths that have been laid out for us. But remember, good can never be extinguished, only buried."  
  
Celeborn fell silent, the grief within him burdened his heart. Haldir felt the very same. love had been ripped from them, torn, mocked and violated, leaving but shadows of their former selves. The two elves had formed a friendship that temporarily completed them, kept them alive until they should be united with their loved ones again.  
  
***  
  
The three boats slowly had passed along the Anduin and had come to rest at the shores just above Rauros Falls. The roaring could be heard from not far away. When they stepped upon the shores, the Fellowship felt the vibrations of the water masses dropping hundreds of feet over a steep cliff.  
  
Legolas stood beside the boat, his boots submerged in water half-way up his calves. He felt a curious need to move away from the water. It grew stronger as he watched Boromir stand up in his boat, seemingly in pain, he stumbled into the water. A sudden panic rushed through the elf as an arm shot out to grasp him for balance.  
  
He had intended to move out of the path of the hand, for his insides squirmed with precognition, but he was not quick enough. There was an instant that passed before the hand connected with his shoulder, the human mind connected with the elven mind. They both saw Middle Earth, its lands in ashes, its forests burning with eternal fires. The moment Boromir's hand connected with Legolas, their minds spoke in unison.  
  
"This is not supposed to be."  
  
A herd of Uruk Hai disappeared from not far away, a noble queen's light turned into darkest shadow and down in the chasms below the Misty mountains, a maia felt a gruesome pain, for the fate of the world had been violently ripped from its path and changed that very insatnt thunder and lightning accompanied a torrential downpour. Not a single being saw the shadow that passed between Boromir and Legolas, not one but a small hobbit who shook his head thinking fatigue and hunger had caused him to see things.  
  
Legolas looked at Boromir who had steadied himself. "Are you alright?" Boromir noded, but not without hesitation. He was alright, yet he felt wrong, as if something had been taken from him and the wrong thing was added to make him whole again.  
  
For a little while, the young prince stood and marvelled at the fresh surge of energy jolting through his body, but soon he dismissed it as merely a side effect of exhaustion. He was the only one who saw Frodo sneak between the trees, for the others were busy trying to find wood that had not been soaked by the brief but heavy rain.  
  
The One Ring hung loosely around his neck, dangling from a silver chain, Legolas was able to catch a glimpse of the golden metal sparkling at him, as if inviting him to come along. The sensation he felt was nearly overwhelming as the blood rushed to his loins stirring them for just a moment, then surged upon his head creating an almost delightful dizziness.  
  
Slowly, and very careful not to attract anyone's attention, he followed the hobbit.  
  
"Where are you going?" Boromir's voice stopped the elf dead in his tracks.  
  
"A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind, I believe we are being followed."  
  
"Do you wish me to accompany you?"  
  
Legolas shook his head.  
  
"T'is not necessary, I can manage, but thank you for your concern," he bit his tongue, "better get the wood to the fire, night is coming fast."  
  
Boromir nodded and returned to the shore. He had no reason to mistrust Legolas, yet a small gnawing resisted to let go of his gut. He thought it curious that Legolas would have left by himself if there had been a threat.  
  
The slender elf moved silently until he saw Frodo, who had sought refuge on top of one of the fallen statues nose and fallen asleep. The hobbit looked peaceful, gold and silver glistening around his neck. Legolas wondered if the beauty of such a simple, but powerful band haunted Frodo's dreams. His slender hand extended and caressed the pale skin of Frodo's neck.  
  
The hobbit awoke with a start, large blue orbs stared at legolas, too frightened to speak. He realized it was just Legolas and his muscles relaxed, a small smile hushed across his face.  
  
"You startled me, Legolas."  
  
"I am sorry, Frodo," he caressed the dark curls atop of the small head, "you seemed so lost and alone out here. Do not be weary, I will help you forget all the fear and anguish you encountered." Legolas placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead, much like Galadriel had done. Frodo looked at him, confused, yet not without anticipation.  
  
"Elven touch can heal mortal souls who are willing to allow this pleasure to be bestowed upon them," Legolas lips brushed Frodo's ear, "are you willing?"  
  
He licked along the tender lobe. The prince had been right, his touch did take away some of his pain, making him forget all that was around him, all that lay before him.  
  
"Yes," he whispered.  
  
He longed to forget the weary journey, if only for a little while. A gasp escaped his lips as Legolas' tongue traced from his ear to his neck. Somehow, he knew he was not supposed to feel like this, Legolas was not supposed to feel like this, but the lips nipping his neck made him wish for more.  
  
His small hands entangled themselves within the long golden mane, as he felt a hot tongue lap across his face. Soft warm lips pressed upon his own, the same hot tongue he had felt across his face sought entrance to his mouth. He granted it. Their tongues intertwined passionately breaking all doubt and fear. Frodo pressed himself against Legolas.  
  
When they parted, Legolas smiled upon Frodo, the hobbit's face seemed worried.  
  
"She warned me of him," he spoke.  
  
"Who, Frodo?"  
  
Legolas hands travelled across the small chest, cupping the bulge pressing against Frodo's breeches. the hobbit moaned pressing himself against the slender hand. The fire Legolas had started within him burnt out of control. He needed the elf, he needed his touch more than anything in the world. Forgotten was the band around his neck.  
  
"Boromir," he panted, "Galadriel told me he wished to take the ring at Amon Hen."  
  
"Don't worry Frodo," legolas nipped the little neck, pressing his palm against the fabric, feeling the outline of Frodo's throbbing loins, "he is no longer of danger to you."  
  
He slipped his hand inside the breeches, slowly freeing the rigid shaft from its prison. Frodo moaned, his mind taken by the sensation as a slight light travelled between Legolas hand and his shaft, penetrating every inch of his body.  
  
"By the stars Legolas!" he exclaimed as the elf's rhythmic motions brought him closer and closer to his peek. He felt the world fade in and out, the desire in his loins travelled along his spine turning into almost throbbing pain.  
  
A small gasp escaped his throat as the pain settled around his neck. He took a deep breath but the oxygen did not pass into his lungs. Something had snuck around his neck, choking him. Legolas' long slender hand moving faster, squeezing him tighter. His loins pulsated with lust and pain. he was unable to take a breath nor could he moan.  
  
Something dug deeper into his throat, he could hear Legolas growl beside his hear. Panic struck him, his little arms flung into the air trying to push Legolas off him, trying to pull away the chain that dug deep into the flesh of his neck, but a hobbit's strength compared not with the strength of an elven warrior crouching over him, like a vulture.  
  
Pain shot through his body, blurring his sight for tears shot to his eyes, the very same moment as his orgasm shook his small body, hot seed spilling over Legolas' hand. The elf was in front of him, a sweet smile upon his lips, Frodo felt a kiss upon his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Legolas' eyes, the iris and white of his eye blackened, the sweet smile a mocking grimace. Frodo's senses lost themselves in unconsciousness.  
  
***  
  
The hobbit lay naked upon the cold floor, shivering he wrapped himself in the mouldy blankets the guards had given him. The walls of the cell were black and smooth, almost sleak. Sometimes Frodo could swear he could feel a heart beat within the wall. He remembered when he had been thrown into the cell, what seemed an eternity ago.  
  
At first, he had been able to keep track of time for the guards had brought him a little food and water, twice a day on a regular basis. After two months, there was talk of war and the guards often forgot to feed him. Then, for a very long time, no one had come at all. He had hoped he had been forgotten and would be able to die before Legolas remembered the small hobbit he had thrown into the dungeons of Minas Morgul. How Frodo had gotten to minas Morgul, he did not know, he also knew not how far Legolas' kingdom stretched. he knew he was truly alone.  
  
Every time he felt himself at the brink of death, the door to his cell had opened shining a dim blue light into it, Legolas had entered with a tray, usually full of fruit and bread and cheese, sometimes even roasted mushrooms. Gladly Frodo had obliged to satisfy the elf when it was asked of him, for the food was always fresh, the bread was always still warm on the inside, and Legolas asked him not every time he fed him.  
  
Then there had been one night, Frodo had heard a female voice scream in what he recognized as elvish. Legolas had entered the cell in frantic rage and thrown a tray full of rotten fruit and mouldy bread at him together with a cup of water smelling strongly of sulfur.  
  
"Eat!" Legolas had yelled, trying to compose himself somewhat.  
  
At first Frodo had refused. He would rather starve than eat this. then he had felt a slender hand caressing his face and loins. Legolas had looked at him with a gentle smile, his eyes bright glowing orbs. How could refuse the wish of such beauty, he stared at a golden band hanging from Legolas' neck, faintly remembering it.  
  
The taste was worse than he had imagined. He felt the food slimy and foul between his lips, as he swallowed it his body refused to take this torture and vomited, but legolas' hands were fast and grabbed his face, locking Frodo's jaw. The hobbit had but one choice, to swallow the vile paste or suffocate. he swallowed, coughing so hard tears popped into his eyes.  
  
The slender hands caressed his face, then pulled him onto Legolas' lap, embracing him lovingly. Frodo felt the cold ring upon his bare back, hot loins upon his behind. He made no sound as Legolas entered him as he had done so many times before, but curled up against the slender chest and closed his eyes.  
  
These memories made Frodo's loins pulsate with a sudden desire. As much as he hated Legolas, he longed for him, he needed his touch. One of his small hands wrapped around the hardening shaft stroking it violently, wishing for Legolas to visit him again.  
  
***  
  
Long after the boats had passed out of sight, haldir had stood watching the Anduin.  
  
"Will you accompany me to a hunt, Haldir?" Celeborn had appeared next to him. Slightly confused, Haldir had nodded and not an hour later they had mounted their steeds leaving the city behind.  
  
"My Lord," Haldir spoke after they had ridden what seemed aimlessly for a long time, "forgive my frankness, but why did you wish me to accompany you?"  
  
"Can a friend not ask another friend out to hunt?" Haldir looked at Celeborn, had he not suspected something before, he most certainly did now.  
  
"When we go on hunt together, usually we are accompanied by other elves. Also, we do not ride aimlessly through the forest but hunt afoot, and, "Haldir smirked, "you have no arrows in your quiver."  
  
The two elves chuckled for a brief moment. Then Celeborn had stopped his horse close to Haldir's.His head was lowered as if in meditation. Silver and golden strands fell upon his face, wind had picked up blowing leaves across the moss covered ground. The Lord's voice seemed distant, eerily deep and voluptuous, his eyes were glazed by a white haze as he looked up and spoke.  
  
"Great evil is about these shores. Greater than any evil Arda hath ever seen. This evil was not supposed to have come into existence for Fate has not forseen this. Haldir, high Guard of Lorien, if I call upon you, will you follow me? Will you follow me even if it be against the will of the Lady galadriel?"  
  
"Sire? I do not understand," haldir spoke, "is the Lady ill?"  
  
"No, but shadow is growing within her, I can feel it. Soon it will corrupt her heart and she will not know good from evil. That will be the time we must leave Lorien and seek the counsil of Elrond Peredhel, keeper of Vilya of the Air. Again I ask you, will you follow me?"  
  
"Of course my Lord." Haldir lowered his head respectfully.  
  
"Thank you Haldir, I knew I could trust you." Celeborn led his horse on a path back to the city in the trees.  
  
Never again did they speak of this encounter, not until one night, after there had been a great downpour, Haldir had felt out of place, worried, as if something had disappeared from his heart. It had hurt, briefly, but intensely, then only a gaping hole was left.  
  
When night had fallen, a scream pierced the city. Moments later, there was a frantic knock at his door and Haldir knew that the time had come. he opened the door, Celeborn stood before him, his hair dripping from the rain, pale he looked, and hurt, as if his heart had been ripped from his body. Rumil and Orophin, and a few other elves waited outside.  
  
"We must leave now," Celeborn looked outside the window, "he is here, he tainted her soul. Some of them have begun listening to him. We must leave before they set after us, they cannot know where we are going."  
  
Haldir was confused, he knew not who it was that had tainted the Lady Galadriel, but Celeborn was sincerely concerned about her welfare, it was quite obvious. Quickly, Haldir slipped on his quiver, grabbed his bow and cloak and followed the small group of about a dozen elves to the stables.  
  
Just as they had monted, a voice rang across the clearing. "You can run Celeborn, but you cannot hide. I have your beautiful wife," there was a pause and a whimper, "do you really wish to leave her with a ruthless beast such as I am?" Haldir recognized the voice, he turned white.  
  
"Legolas," he yelled, Turning his horse towards where the voice came from, "Legolas!" He rode the horse up the stairs towards the platform on top of which Legolas was standing, one slender hand buried in the golden garland of galadriel's hair.  
  
The horse Haldir was on reared as it saw the small dragon crouching behind Legolas, who was clad in a crimson tunic and black breeches, a dark cloak hanging from his shoulders. He smiled at Haldir as he saw him, the same smile he had given him so often.  
  
"Haldir," he said letting go of Galadriel, who surprisingly, climbed upon the dragon, playing absent mindedly with the locks of a passed out Frodo.  
  
"I hoped I would see you before I seek more welcoming locations."  
  
"What is going on?" Haldir pointed an arrow at Legolas.  
  
Bright blue orbs looked at Haldir.  
  
"Do you truly wish to kill me, Haldir?" Legolas moved beside the horse, his hand rested upon Haldir's thigh, the arrow was mere inches from his forehead. "What I feel for you has not changed, only the circumstances." Haldir saw the golden ring upon a silver chain haning about Legolas' neck.  
  
"No," he whispered, "what did you do?"  
  
Legolas smiled, "I freed us from all responsibility. No more will we have to fear to show our love, my beloved." legolas gently pulled Haldir off the horse, pushing the bow aside, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. He still tasted sweet, Haldir thought, sweet and beautiful.  
  
"Come with me, my love," Legolas whispered into the pointed ear, his lips brushing against it. "Please, come with me my love." The slender body pressed itself against Haldir, begging for his embrace. Though he bore the Ring of Power around his neck, his love for Haldir made him vulnerable.  
  
"Give up the ring, Legolas, and I will come with you."  
  
Legolas' reaction surprised Haldir, as well as the by-standers, for Legolas pulled the ring from his neck and dangled it in front of Haldir's face.  
  
"If you wish it, I shall give it to you, and we can rule together."  
  
Haldir shook his head.  
  
"Return the ring to its bearer and I shall take you from this place, we shall be together, eternally. Without the ring."  
  
"Without the ring?" Legolas whispered, his voice changing into an angry scream the next moment. "What kind of fool do you take me for Haldir High guard of Lorien. I give up the ring, and you forsake your oath and my body will fall to the floor pierced by three arrows. That is not what will be happening. You will come with me, or you will die." Legolas calmed a bit. haldir wondered why none of the elves around him had not shot yet. he glanced at celeborn who bore his bow and arrow, the tip at level with Legolas' head.  
  
"I cannot come with you. Not like this! By Eru, what have you done Legolas?" Haldir dropped the bow and arrow to the floor.  
  
"I have taken what rightfully belongs to whom takes it! Fate is not written in the stars, it is a blank page, and I chose to write upon mine in my own writing!" With that he slipped on the ring, he turned not invisible like Frodo had done.  
  
Energy surged through the clearing and met inside the slender body. Blue orbs turned into a sleak blackness, nothing else changed. With a smile, Legolas lifted his arm,  
  
"Now, you shall peri-"  
  
Galadriel had jumped off the dragon and wrapped the rope from Frodo's feet around Legolas' neck.  
  
"Fly! Fly to Rivendell my love," she yelled, "save us all!"  
  
Celeborn had grabbed Haldir and mounted, his steed. The rest of them, mounted their horses, Celeborn's steed followed without a rider. They galloped from the city, when they reached the forest, a wailing scream was heard. Celeborn flinched in front of Haldir as if he had been hit, blood flowed from his nose, but he did not stop, nor did he turn.  
  
When Haldir turned around, he saw the dragon lifting from the ground, flying in opposite direction of them. A group of perhaps twenty elves followed them, their eyes glostening black in the light of the stars. But their horses refused to carry them, before they could reach the outskirts of the city, most had been thrown off the horses, some even trampled. Celeborn drove his horse past exhaustion.  
  
One by one, the elves accompanying them slowed down to allow their horses rest.  
  
"We'll wait for you in Imladris," Celeborn had yelled, as he had jumped from Haldir's galloping horse onto his own.  
  
The two elves chased each other throw the forests of Middle Earth, only to slow down when the mountains were to steep for the horses to ride fast. they reached Rivendell only a week later.  
  
*** 


	2. Part 2

Far away from Minas Morgul, where Frodo was tortured so bitterly, Haldir quietly rode by Celeborn's side. The hobbits and Glorfindel had taken a different route towards Minas Tirith where they were to meet Aragorn with a small assembly of men ready to fight Orophin and Rumil had remained in Rivendell to assist Arwen and her brothers.  
  
Together, they were on their way of meeting with a band of elves who were accompanied by a woman that had escaped Minas Morgul. They intended to question her. For hours they rode, the only sound to be heard was the quiet fall of silver hooves connecting with the soft ground.  
  
"Water is near," Celeborn broke the silence, "the horses need some water, and rest."  
  
He led his horse off the path into the small forest it led along. Haldir followed him, his elegant bow hung ready over his shoulder, his senses were perked to the environment, ready to counter any attack that they might come across.  
  
The elven lord led him to a small well, bubbling out of the side of a small hill through the moss covered ground. Sanctuaries like these were rare, at least south of the Misty Mountains. Once lush, rolling fields and grasslands had turned into deadly traps. The creatures of Mirkwood had found their way from the condemned forest and made the lands that used to be Gondor and Rohan their home.  
  
Celeborn dismounted and lead the horse towards the spring. The large white steed shook his long silver mane, falling like waterfalls down to his legs. Then he lowered his head to the water and began to drink gracefully. The elven Lord's tall body stretched, firm muscles flexed and relaxed under the tight fabric of his tunic. He crouched down beside the stream, his fingers dipped into the crystalline liquid. He turned his hand below the surface, watching it intently.  
  
He leaned further, his other hand joined the first, scooping up some of the crisp, fresh water and bringing it to his full, red lips. Silver and golden hair fell from the intricate braids that kept the long mane tamed, water glistening from them as Celeborn suddenly splashed the water into his face, his finger tips digging into his forehead. His body tensed, for a moment all was still.  
  
Haldir dismounted, his steed finding his own way to the water.  
  
"Lord Celeborn," he spoke softly, "what is it?" The Lorien elf moved closer, but a slender hand motioned him otherwise.  
  
"No, leave me! T'is alright," he spoke but his voice nearly failed him, "I need to be alone for a while." Reluctantly, Haldir obeyed and led the two steeds a bit away from the spring. There he climbed into one of the trees and sat to watch Celeborn from afar.  
  
Still crouched, the elf sat by the water, his hands gently bringing water to his mouth as he greedily drank it. Then he rested his wrists in the cool stream, sighing visibly. Something sparkled and fell into the stream. Haldir shifted from his branch to see better.  
  
Celeborn lifted his hands in front of his face. They trembled, even from afar Haldir could clearly see this. They covered his face as his once broad and strong shoulders shook violently. Tears like diamonds ran across his face, down his hands and neck and though he sobbed bitterly, he made not a sound.  
  
  
  
Haldir's form relaxed. This was not the first time he had led the horses away while the Lord of Lorien silently wept by the water. He was unsure whether Celeborn was aware of his presence but it seemed not to matter either way. Haldir had the common decency to leave him in his privacy for as long as he needed it, though it broke his heart to see him so desperate. He wished to comfort his friend, let him know that he was not alone. But it was impossible. Celeborn was the Lord of Lorien, one did not simply walk up to him and offer him comfort. As Haldir thought about it, he realized that he was not sure of whether Celeborn ever received comfort from anyone other than the Lady of Light herself.  
  
***  
  
Galadriel's face was hidden by her long blonde hair she sat in the corner of a large well-lit room. The white gown she commonly wore had been replaced by one that sparkled with gold and mithril. Her golden hair was tied back and hung in a loose braid down her back. She was tired and just as confused. She missed her husband, but a desire was flamed inside her loins and heart that was almost too strong to bear.  
  
It had been but a few weeks since she had been brought to this place. Legolas had treated her worthy of a Queen, gowned her is the most beautiful fabrics she had ever seen, served her bubbly wines with diamonds at the bottom of the glass. She had been allowed to move freely about the city of Minas Morgul in accompaniment of a guard of course. She was unsure of what was going to happen.  
  
Vaguely she had remembered that night in which he came to her.  
  
*** It had been an unusually dark night, Celeborn had left without a word like he had so many times since the Fellowship had left the realms of Lorien. Angrily she had gone to bed, for she felt unrightfully ignored. Her dreams were haunted by nightmares, unable to find rest her slender body tossed and turned beneath the sheets.  
  
A warm wind picked up, blowing through the chamber. Galadriel opened her eyes as she woke with a start. In the corner of the room sat a shadow upon the silken armchair, watching her.  
  
"Celeborn?" she whispered, sitting up slowly. But she already knew it was not him. She sat up slowly, her gaze trying to pierce the mind of the stranger but all she found was darker shadow.  
  
"Why is it, the beautiful Lady of Lorien sleeps alone in her chambers and cannot find rest?" A familar, yet distant voice asked. Galadriel opened her mouth to speak but felt her voice fail inside her throat. She half shook her head, half shrugged. The shadow stood, she noticed the slender figure walking towards her.  
  
"What is your intention?" she asked finding her voice again.  
  
"But milady," the voice replied amused, "can you not see what it is I intend with you?"  
  
Galadriel's eyes widened as she saw within the shadows what he thought. Her hands clutched the sheets, she felt herself painfully aware of her naked body under her thin shift. She swallowed audibly as the shadow sat beside her bed, the light of the stars shone upon his face, revealing two of the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.  
  
"You have come for me," she whispered, her hand extending towards the small band of gold hanging about his neck.  
  
The shadow nodded, his long slender hand ran through her golden mane. She shivered at the touch. She was not frightened, she felt soothed by it, empowered as if the force of the ring flowed through his hand into her. T'was a delighting feel, strangely arousing. "Yes," he spoke, "I have come for you my Queen." Legolas' full lips met with hers, touching in a gentle kiss.  
  
There was a small gasp that escaped Galadriel's lips, sealing her consent to the actions done upon her, she grasped the other slender hand a kissed the finger tips.  
  
"I have restlessly been waiting for you since you left," she whispered. He pulled her close.  
  
"I know," he kissed her lips again, "and you shall rule with me the lands they know as Middle Earth, and they shall call you The Lady of All Lands and I shall be your Lord."  
  
Slowly, Legolas laid Galadriel upon the sheets, savouring her infinite beauty. She lay before him, dressed in nothing but a shift through which he could see her nipples hardening with anticipation. Her slender body tensed as he pulled a dagger from its sheath, but relaxed as he kissed her reassuringly and proceeded to cut the shift from her body.  
  
Galadriel smiled as he ripped the shift away from her skin, leaving her naked and pale upon the sheets. For a moment he sat by her feet marvelling at her, then he crawled over her, his blonde hair falling upon her, tickling her. Lavishing lips kissed hers with a passion she had never felt before. She tasted his sweet mouth, his tongue seeking entrance to hers, she granted it.  
  
Her hands entangled themselves within his hair as he nipped upon her lip and ear, but as she felt his tongue broadly lapping across her elegantly pointed ear, she knew she needed all he would give her. She pulled on his tunic, which he lost quickly and bent towards her, bruising her lips as he bit them roughly. Galadriel moaned as the ring touched her bare skin, energy surged through her body, sending jolts of pleasure to her loins.  
  
Greedy lips moved about her neck, sucking and licking the fragile column of flesh. A muffled scream came from the Lady's lips as Legolas' teeth sank into her flesh. He drew no blood but left a deep purple bruise upon the creamy skin upon her neck. His long hand covered the soft flesh of her breast as his tongue traced a small path from her neck to her collarbone.  
  
His thumb flicked across the hardened nub, he smiled as Galadriel gasped. He placed his lips upon it, gently suckling the rose coloured nipple. The Lady bit her lip as his tongue flicked across, making her shiver with excitement a small yelp escaped her lips as he bit her breast and nipple.  
  
Legolas made sure the other breast was showered with as much attention as the first, then his lips slowly trailed towards her stomach, little nips and kisses making the journey almost unbearable. Galadriel's mind was swept away by the pleasure, she felt not the darkness flowing from his lips into her light, slowly dimishing the light within her.  
  
As the Mirkwood elf traced his tongue toward the small tufft of light blonde, almost white curls, Galadriel closed her eyes, sharply sucking in air of anticipation. A guttural moan came from her throat as Legolas kissed upon her mounds with the same passion he had kissed her lips.  
  
Galadriel forgot all that was about her as Legolas lifted her hips from the bed, nuzzling the blonde curls, flicking his tongue across her most sensitive spot, her hands entangled within his her as he lapped across her glistening mounds. Legolas savoured her taste, she was sweet and untainted, but he felt the darkness within her grow. With a smile he nipped at the vulnerable nub coaxing another moan from her lips. Completely consumed by his pleasure, she noticed not the shadow entering the room silently.  
  
He knew he had her almost completely as he slipped a finger into her wetness bringing it to her lips, she greedily sucked it into her mouth. With almost a scream she bit his finger as he gently let the Ring slide across her wet mounds. Her hips bucked towards him, her hands clawed at his trousers, tearing them from his hips, she wished to have him; she needed to have him.  
  
His arousal was quite clear as the prison that was his trousers was removed from his body. Galadriel gasped; he crushed her lips with a passionate kiss; she tasted herself within him. The need for him grew stronger; she pulled him closer to her.  
  
"Enni gerin," (take me) she whispered as she felt his throbbing elfhood pressed against her thigh.  
  
It was as if eternal shadow had overcome the world as Legolas entered Galadriel with a slow single thrust. The Lady of the Wood groaned with pleasure, pulling him deeper into her. She cared not about the world around her as his thrusts sped up, driving her into frenzy; her nails clawed his back making him scream in pain and pleasure alike, he bit her bruised neck.  
  
She knew not how long she felt him throb inside her, thrusting her towards her peak. All she knew is when it came the world turned black when it used to turn white. Her light extinguished and she saw the figure standing in the doorway to her chambers as clear as day as orgasm shuddered her body, making her scream Legolas' name as his dark seed spilled into her.  
  
Still her body was shaking by her peak as Celeborn stepped into the room. He looked at her, lowered his gaze and did not look at her again, but took his cloak and disappeared. Galadriel laid on her back panting, unable to speak, Legolas still buried inside her, his hand laid upon her eyes and she fell into unconsciousness.  
  
***  
  
Haldir began to feel uncomfortable for Celeborn had crouched motionless by the stream for what seemed hours. The High Guard shifted around impatiently, He wished not to see his friend in such a state. Not quite five years ago, they had buried formalities to make room for a close friendship. Though Celeborn kept everyone at arm'slenght when it came to the way he felt about what was happening to Middle Earth and his loved ones.  
  
Alarmed, Haldir climbed off the tree as he saw Celeborn fall to his knees into the crystal waters. One hand supported his weight clutching into the sandy bottom of the stream, the other covered his face. The tall body was shaken by violent sobs; cries of infinite sorrow escaped his throat. In all the years Haldir had known him, he'd never seen him like this.  
  
He moved swiftly towards the spring, but before he reached it he heard Celeborn's voice inside his head. "Break not the vow you made to me as my friend and guard!" Haldir stopped.  
  
"My Lord, you hurt, I do not wish to see you suffer," he replied, his lips moved not.  
  
"Turn around and ride towards the path, I shall join you soon. I ask you not to break your vow." Haldir nodded and complied, if reluctantly.  
  
T'was long after sunset when Haldir saw Celeborns white steed beside him, the Lord of Lorien sitting upon it, as tall and proud as he always was. But Haldir knew that below the composed surface was a broken spirit, a beautiful spirit he wished to comfort, to heal. A slight blush crept upon his face as he found himself wishing he could love Celeborn, show him he understood his pain and ease it. 


	3. Part 3

Part 3  
  
T'was long after sunset when Haldir saw Celeborns white steed beside him, the Lord of Lorien sitting upon it, as tall and proud as he always was. But Haldir knew that below the composed surface was a broken spirit, a beautiful spirit he wished to comfort, to heal. A slight blush crept upon his face as he found himself wishing he could love Celeborn, show him he understood his pain and ease it.  
  
***  
  
"What do you mean, they came across the mountains?" A tall figure in a white cloak stood by a large window.  
  
"The elves, my Lord," a small twisted creature shivered, "they have crossed the misty mountains."  
  
There was a long, agonizing silence. Long slender fingers drummed on the windowsill, the third finger bore a simple gold band just above its knuckle. Then, the figure turned towards the creature bearing a gentle, almost loving smile.  
  
"I thank you for bringing this to my attention," the voice was melodic and soft. The creature felt drawn towards the hand that extended towards him. Unable to think of anything but the soft pale skin, the creature moved closer.  
  
Affectionately, the cloaked figure drew the creature into a delicate embrace. Bright blue orbs shone with passion and something the creature could not place, something beyond all good and evil, a lust for power, all power. Tender lips placed a small kiss upon the creature's fore head; a long hand caressed the scarred face.  
  
The creature was stirred with passion as the other hand placed itself upon its loins. A small cry escaped its lips as the hand gently applied pressure. It croaked as the hand slipped into the dirtied rags that used to have been breeches.  
  
Full pale lips placed themselves upon the creature's gaping mouth. Its yellow eyes widened, in fear and pleasure. Only those close to the two could see the small shadow flow from Legolas' lips into the mouth of the creature. A white haze came across the yellow sparks, the creature dropped lifeless to the floor.  
  
"Now would somebody please tell me why there is a band of elves moving freely about my lands!" Legolas shouted, his voice full of anger, the blue orbs shadowed as his fist connected with the black rock.  
  
A rag was held in front of him. He looked up; bright green eyes met him with a shy look. One of the servants had been sent to assist him with the hand that had been stained by the creature's loins. His mind laughed for he well knew that this girl had been sent to aid him because the others were too scared of him. A servant was expendable.  
  
This girl seemed not to be as scared of him as he would have expected from a servant. She stood fairly tall, almost as tall as him. He suspected that she was an elven bastard child, or something to that extend. Her eyes were of a green he had remembered faintly, but he knew not where from.  
  
"Here my Lord," she spoke quietly, her hands trembled a bit when she touched his, "let me help you."  
  
Legolas allowed this touch, watching her closely. There was an air about her that arose his suspicion as well as his curiosity. Long red hair fell down below her shoulders, it was dirty and ragged, but had a shine that promised great potential. Her lips were fuller than even his own, the bones of her cheeks emphasized an exotic look he had not yet come across.  
  
Gently, her fragile hands cleaned his. When she finished, she curtsied and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait," Legolas spoke so firmly, the girl flinched, "I wish to see you again, the guards will show you a room."  
  
"But my lord," he could see it took all her courage to speak to him like this, "I have a family to return to, my children will starve if I do not return."  
  
Legolas grabbed her arm violently jerking her towards him. She began to cry with fear.  
  
"You will obey my wishes," his voice was a hiss, "unless you wish to see your family hung from the tallest tower!"  
  
He shoved her away from him, her hunger-ridden body connected with the floor hard as she slid against the wall.  
  
"Take her to the dungeons! I wish not to see her for a while," his eyes met hers, a piercing pain stabbed through his heart. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out in pain.  
  
  
  
"Celeborn, my Lord!" A concerned voice caused Celeborn to open his eyes.  
  
He found himself lying upon the ground, yet he did not remember how he had gotten there. Haldir knelt beside him, his bright green eyes looked worried, almost panicked.  
  
"What happened," the elven Lord spoke, his face cringed as he sat up slowly.  
  
"I do not know, you cried out in pain and fell from the horse," Haldir held a cup of water to Celeborn's lips, which he drank from gratefully.  
  
He remembered now the pain he had felt, sudden and piercing just above his heart. He saw the hand that slid Nenya from his beloved's finger, he also saw the knife that pierced her skin just above her heart.  
  
"Celeborn?"  
  
The elven Lord realized his cheeks were wet with the tears that flowed freely from his eyes. He tried to get up so he could hide his pain from Haldir, but he found himself too weak to accomplish a flight.  
  
The Lorien guard's gentle hand caressed his shoulder, trying to comfort him. Celeborn wanted to turn away; he wished not to be comforted. He needed not be comforted, he thought. He was the Lord of the Elves of Lorien; he was supposed to give comfort to his people, not the other way around.  
  
As much as he tried, he could not stop his tears from falling, or his body from shaking as violent sobs escaped his throat. He could not stand, he could not even see ahead of him for his tears clouded his vision. He felt like as helpless as he felt useless. The broken image of a once proud warrior and Lord, the fading shadow of his former self.  
  
Giving into his grief, Celeborn sank into the arms that softly embraced him, resting his head against Haldir's chest. He cried like a scared child, a grieving husband and a defeated warrior, his hands clutched Haldir's tunic in a desperate attempt to save himself from drowning in his pain.  
  
An affectionate voice gently whispered soothing elvish words into his pointed ear, full lips briefly brushing against the pale skin. Slowly, Celeborn's tears ebbed until he merely held tightly onto the arms that gently rocked him, listening to the sweet elvish voice quietly singing songs of healing.  
  
The air between the elves grew more static, the caressing touch of Haldir's slender hands seemed to electrify the skin of the Lord of Lorien and sent pleasant jolts through his tall body. It seemed only natural when Celeborn turned his head, and their soft lips met in a passionate kiss, forgetting the world around them  
  
T'was long after sunset when Haldir saw Celeborns white steed beside him, the Lord of Lorien sitting upon it, as tall and proud as he always was. But Haldir knew that below the composed surface was a broken spirit, a beautiful spirit he wished to comfort, to heal. A slight blush crept upon his face as he found himself wishing he could love Celeborn, show him he understood his pain and ease it.  
  
  
  
"What do you mean, they came across the mountains?" A tall figure in a white cloak stood by a large window.  
  
"The elves, my Lord," a small twisted creature shivered, "they have crossed the misty mountains."  
  
There was a long, agonizing silence. Long slender fingers drummed on the windowsill, the third finger bore a simple gold band just above its knuckle. Then, the figure turned towards the creature bearing a gentle, almost loving smile.  
  
"I thank you for bringing this to my attention," the voice was melodic and soft. The creature felt drawn towards the hand that extended towards him. Unable to think of anything but the soft pale skin, the creature moved closer.  
  
Affectionately, the cloaked figure drew the creature into a delicate embrace. Bright blue orbs shone with passion and something the creature could not place, something beyond all good and evil, a lust for power, all power. Tender lips placed a small kiss upon the creature's fore head; a long hand caressed the scarred face.  
  
The creature was stirred with passion as the other hand placed itself upon its loins. A small cry escaped its lips as the hand gently applied pressure. It croaked as the hand slipped into the dirtied rags that used to have been breeches.  
  
Full pale lips placed themselves upon the creature's gaping mouth. Its yellow eyes widened, in fear and pleasure. Only those close to the two could see the small shadow flow from Legolas' lips into the mouth of the creature. A white haze came across the yellow sparks, the creature dropped lifeless to the floor.  
  
"Now would somebody please tell me why there is a band of elves moving freely about my lands?!" Legolas shouted, his voice full of anger, the blue orbs shadowed as his fist connected with the black rock.  
  
A rag was held in front of him. He looked up; bright green eyes met him with a shy look. One of the servants had been sent to assist him with the hand that had been stained by the creature's loins. His mind laughed for he well knew that this girl had been sent to aid him because the others were too scared of him. A servant was expendable.  
  
This girl seemed not to be as scared of him as he would have expected from a servant. She stood fairly tall, almost as tall as him. He suspected that she was an elven bastard child, or something to that extend. Her eyes were of a green he had remembered faintly, but he knew not where from.  
  
"Here my Lord," she spoke quietly, her hands trembled a bit when she touched his, "let me help you."  
  
Legolas allowed this touch, watching her closely. There was an air about her that arose his suspicion as well as his curiosity. Long red hair fell down below her shoulders, it was dirty and ragged, but had a shine that promised great potential. Her lips were fuller than even his own, the bones of her cheeks emphasized an exotic look he had not yet come across.  
  
Gently, her fragile hands cleaned his. When she finished, she curtsied and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait," Legolas spoke so firmly, the girl flinched, "I wish to see you again, the guards will show you a room."  
  
"But my lord," he could see it took all her courage to speak to him like this, "I have a family to return to, my children will starve if I do not return."  
  
Legolas grabbed her arm violently jerking her towards him. She began to cry with fear.  
  
"You will obey my wishes," his voice was a hiss, "unless you wish to see your family hung from the tallest tower!"  
  
He shoved her away from him, her hunger-ridden body connected with the floor hard as she slid against the wall.  
  
"Take her to the dungeons! I wish not to see her for a while," his eyes met hers, a piercing pain stabbed through his heart. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out in pain.  
  
"Celeborn, my Lord!" A concerned voice caused Celeborn to open his eyes.  
  
He found himself lying upon the ground, yet he did not remember how he had gotten there. Haldir knelt beside him, his bright green eyes looked worried, almost panicked.  
  
"What happened," the elven Lord spoke, his face cringed as he sat up slowly.  
  
"I do not know, you cried out in pain and fell from the horse," Haldir held a cup of water to Celeborn's lips, which he drank from gratefully.  
  
He remembered now the pain he had felt, sudden and piercing just above his heart. He saw the hand that slid Nenya from his beloved's finger; he also saw the knife that pierced her skin just above her heart.  
  
"Celeborn?"  
  
The elven Lord realized his cheeks were wet with the tears that flowed freely from his eyes. He tried to get up so he could hide his pain from Haldir, but he found himself too weak to accomplish a flight.  
  
The Lorien guard's gentle hand caressed his shoulder, trying to comfort him. Celeborn wanted to turn away; he wished not to be comforted. He needed not be comforted, he thought. He was the Lord of the Elves of Lorien; he was supposed to give comfort to his people, not the other way around.  
  
As much as he tried, he could not stop his tears from falling, or his body from shaking as violent sobs escaped his throat. He could not stand, he could not even see ahead of him for his tears clouded his vision. He felt like as helpless as he felt useless. The broken image of a once proud warrior and Lord, the fading shadow of his former self.  
  
Giving into his grief, Celeborn sank into the arms that softly embraced him, resting his head against Haldir's chest. He cried like a scared child, a grieving husband and a defeated warrior, his hands clutched Haldir's tunic in a desperate attempt to save himself from drowning in his pain.  
  
An affectionate voice gently whispered soothing elvish words into his pointed ear, full lips briefly brushing against the pale skin. Slowly, Celeborn's tears ebbed until he merely held tightly onto the arms that gently rocked him, listening to the sweet elvish voice quietly singing songs of healing.  
  
The air between the elves grew more static, the caressing touch of Haldir's slender hands seemed to electrify the skin of the Lord of Lorien and sent pleasant jolts through his tall body. It seemed only natural when Celeborn turned his head, and their soft lips met in a passionate kiss, forgetting the world around them  
  
T'was as if their souls sought refuge in each other's body, refuge from the pain they had endured these past years, refuge from the war and the awareness that their loved ones were held in the jagged claws of evil.  
  
A spurt of passion glowed inside their bodies as their lips pressed against each other, their tongues dancing in an endless intertwining motion. Saliva mingles with tiny droplets of sweat as the heated bodies pressed against each other.  
  
Haldir's hand entwined itself in the long silver and golden mane, gently loosening the intricate braids. Their lips parted, but the fervent haze still laid about them. The Lorien guard gasped as he watched strands of silver and gold fall into the delicate features of Celeborn. The elf he had always seen composed and proud now seemed like a feral cat, full of passion and lust.  
  
A growl escaped Celeborn's throat as his form crouched beside Haldir, who bit his lip in anticipation. For a moment, both elves held their breath, once this moment passed there would be no return. The moment passed and two fiery lips crushed upon each other, bruising the pale skin.  
  
They felt as though their bodies had lost all connection with the earth and floated in an abyss of desire and enchantment. Long slender hands ran across smooth fabric, unfastening buttons and lacing with nimble fingers, their lips never parting.  
  
Celeborn buried his face in Haldir's neck, gently biting the pastel skin, but also seeking comfort as Haldir placed his svelte hand upon the iridescent hair, caressing him gently. Though they spoke not, they could feel each other's thoughts, hopes and fears deep within their souls.  
  
Full lips wandered along Haldir's neck and to his collarbone, biting the grove hard enough to charm a lust-filled moan from Haldir. Briefly, he wondered how the Lord of Lorien had come so skilled in the art of passion with one so alike to him, but lithe fingers slowly sliding into his breeches disrupted his thoughts.  
  
Passion soothed their silently weeping hearts. It erased all coherent thought from their minds when their hot skin touched, bathed in a sheen of sweat, their lips locked into another enthralling kiss.  
  
Haldir moaned when Celeborn's dexterous finger's unfastened the intricate lacing to his leather trousers, freeing the taut column of flesh that longingly awaited his touch. The warm hand obliged gladly and enveloped the throbbing elfhood with a gently but firm touch.  
  
A moan escaped Haldir's lips as the slender hand caressed along his length; the long thumb collected a small bead of glistening liquid from the tip and brought it to his lips, coating them with the syrupy liquid. Celeborn's lips crushed upon his, a hot tongue lapping the sweet tang from his mouth.  
  
The initial hesitation about loving the Lord of Lorien had been washed from Haldir's mind; and his hands began to wander about the broad chest of his elegant lover. His lips wandered from the rose coloured mouth and began to trace a small path along the graceful neck.  
  
Celeborn gasped when sharp ivory teeth sank into his neck, gently nipping the skin. Never before had he allowed another elf to approach him like this. Commonly, he had been the one instigating an affair, he had always been in control, but Haldir's delicate touch, his fiery loins and deliciously moist tongue robbed his mind and drove him into lust-driven surrender.  
  
In this very moment, he was not the Lord of Lorien, he was not nobility; he just was. For just this moment, it mattered not how much pain there was in the world, how close evil was waiting for them. It mattered not that Galadriel's body was intertwined with Legolas in a passionate embrace. It mattered not that his hot seed spilled into her. For this moment, Celeborn had forgotten, he existed only within Haldir's touch.  
  
His hands clawed into pallid skin as he felt burning lips trace down his body, peeling him out of his breeches. They felt so foreign and yet familiar as he could feel them brush against his throbbing shaft, the deliciously wet tongue lapping along his length. He groaned, his head tilted back, his hands sought the golden mane that familiarized itself with his lap.  
  
Long fingers entwined themselves within Haldir's hair when his tongue entangled the hardness of Celeborn's loins in a zealous kiss. The touch was infinitely delicate yet firm and driving Celeborn towards frenzy. He could not help himself but allow a guttural moan to escape his throat.  
  
The intend of Haldir's mouth was quite evident when his lips engulfed the pulsating elfhood, drawing it into the hot and moist cavity. Celeborn thought he would lose his mind or seed, but when he opened his eyes again, the very same lips pressed themselves upon his.  
  
Celeborn felt a longing to be within loving arms like he had not felt in many season and pulled Haldir almost violently into his lap. The blonde elf growled in pleasure as his hands ran through the golden and silver strands. They turned into golden locks, the grayish-blue cleared into vivid azure eyes, yet Celeborn's essence remained. Haldir felt as though he saw the shadow of his beloved in the eyes of the wise Lord.  
  
The need between them grew stronger as they felt the echoes of their love throb inside their veins, their very souls, torturing them so sweetly. Their lips crushed upon each other, bruising the delicate skin, drawing blood.  
  
Haldir groaned with pleasure as Celeborn's sharp nails dragged along the pallid skin of his back. The languid touch dragged along his body, pulling him closer by his slender hips. Celeborn's lips buried themselves in Haldir's neck as he tenderly drew the guard upon himself.  
  
The elves moaned and gasped with immeasurable desire as their long shimmering bodies melted together in this one act of passion, saving them from drowning in their infinite sorrow and pain. They moaned together, their lips crushing upon each other, drinking each other as they thrust closer to deliverance and healing.  
  
No words came from them, no thoughts. They became enigmas of their former selves, shadows and light, love and hatred, pain and pleasure. They were not happy nor were they saddened. Loudly they moaned as earthen lust drew them towards each other.  
  
Their burning seed spilled upon each other in iridescent pearls, mingling with the sparkling sheen of sweat on their bodies. Not a gasp, or groan was heard when they came, their lips opened but neither sound nor air escaped. Into each other they fell when their bodies were fiercely shaken by their inevitable climax. 


	4. Part 4

*** "Bring her to me. now!"  
  
A random goblet was taken from the table and thrown against the blackened walls. The two connected hard and the goblet exploded into many shards spilling across the floor. Bare feet angrily walked through the jagged pieces, ignoring them as they cut across the pale skin, blood dripping from them.  
  
  
  
Legolas flung open a set of large wooden doors, the heavy wood crushing the guards behind them. He was furious. Just this morning he had lain naked with the Lady of Light, ravished her, taken her and bent her to his will and now she as much refused to see him when he requested her presence.  
  
The servant that had attended to his wounds a few days before was violently dragged into his room. Having been informed by the elven guards that she was to be the entertainment for Lord Legolas tonight, she had very much tried to break from the bruising grasp of the tall blonde elves.  
  
When she had been brought before Legolas, her efforts had soubled, she kicked and screamed, but her fate was inevitable. One of the guards clasped her neck tightly,choking her until she hung limply in the arms of the guards. Her green eyes sparkled beneath the ragged mane of red hair.  
  
"I will not be your whore!" She spat.  
  
For a moment, she was surprised how hard such slender and fragile hands could be as one of them hit across her face. Even more surprising was that the world did not turn black. It shook and spun for a few seconds, then returned to a blurrier version of itself, throbbing pain came from the girl's bleeding lip.  
  
The guards had left, doors locked behind them. The girl looked up to meet brightly shimmering blue orbs, and what seemed to be an almost gentle smile. Her hand came to feel her lip; it was swollen and bled still. She looked about the room, unlike the dungeons where she had been kept; this room was shining in an iridescent light, it was large and in the middle of it stood what she thought to have been the largest bed she had ever seen.  
  
Something about the room struck her as odd; it did not fit what she had experienced in the past few days. It did not ooze the very stench of evil and darkness. A gentle hand caressed her face; carefully a thumb ran across her lip touching it soothingly. She felt the cut heal and slowly close until she felt nothing but the faint echo of pain.  
  
Lips pressed against hers, almost lovingly. She was confused by this. Moments ago, Legolas had been enraged, angry enough to strike her.  
  
"What is your name," Legolas asked as their lips parted, his voice melodic and gentle.  
  
"Galen," she whispered.  
  
"An elvish name, it does suit your appearance. Not quite human, not quite elf. A bastard child able to cling to her heritage only by her given name," the gentle smile was washed away by a cruel chuckle.  
  
Galen looked into his eyes. He thrived off this. Watching someone suffer, giving them love making them feel secure and then taking everything from them, it pleased him. A white shadow rushed across her eyes; it was concealed by the hair falling into her face. She would play, for now.  
  
***  
  
Frodo's eyes lazily lingered on a small spot of light coming through the keyhole of the large black wooden door. He felt indifferent to it, there was no hope attached to the light flickering outside his rooms. The bright blue of his eyes was hazy, they seemed unfocused and blurred. He heard not the shouting outside his door. He noticed not the feet rushing by his cell.  
  
The young hobbit did not know how long it had been since he had last felt Legolas' ragged breath upon his skin, felt his hot release inside him. He had been apathetic to the food that he was given more regularly now. There was nothing that changed the endless black walls, the never-ending sounds of grunting and scurrying, until a tiny noise crept into his ears.  
  
There had been a thick blanket of silence in front of his cell; he assumed it to be night. Yet, there again, was a small scratching noise creeping from the door into his ears. T'was nothing like he had heard before, t'was comforting, t'was a bright sound, almost comforting.  
  
He saw not the young woman crouching in front of the heavy wooden door patiently twisting a piece of metal into the keyhole. He heard not the small curses she spoke trying to pry open the door as she heard the guards approach.  
  
Frodo yelped as light brighter than day burnt into the retinas of his eyes, leaving him blinded scrambling towards the wall in fear. Someone had entered his cell, someone that was not a guard, nor Legolas himself. And they had brought the day inside.  
  
"Frodo," a soft voice gently spoke.  
  
The young hobbit cowered in the corner of his prison, clothed in dirtied shadows of rags. The figure determined that dirt was what held them on his starved body.  
  
"Frodo, you have to come with me," bright green eyes penetrated his very soul.  
  
The eyes belonged to a young woman, her hair shone like fire down her shoulders. Her clothes were ragged and dirty; a heavy black brown cloak fell from her shoulders. When he looked at her, he saw her pointed ears had been pierced near the tips, small silver rings accentuated them with sparkling highlights.  
  
Frodo knew not who this woman was, but as her slender hand touched him, he felt comforted, soothed. Her touch was not demanding and luring like Legolas', it was meant to heal and wished to help. He was torn, his mind had not wrapped around his thoughts when his mouth opened and screamed, not for help, not for Legolas, he just screamed, a gutteral yet shrill scream. Letting his pain and anger flow from his soul as he did.  
  
"No, Frodo!" A slender hand snapped his mouth shut, "you musn't make a sound!"  
  
Another hand collected him from the floor; Frodo could feel the soothing warmth of a female body pressing against him. It seemed forever since he had felt such sincere compassion. The small soul and tormented heart inside the tortured body clenched as tears spilled from the bright blue eyes.  
  
Frodo sobbed, his head resting upon the young woman's soft breast as she carried him along the twisting hallways. His small fists clutched the fabric of her shirt, his legs wrapped around her slender waist as she rushed seemingly aimless through the darkness.  
  
She could hear the silent feet of elves not far behind them. She knew he would not send orcs to capture her, she knew she was not supposed to be captured. Would they be captured, she would be killed and worse, so would Frodo. Her time with Legolas had taught her that his patience was spread thinly and he acted irrationally when enraged.  
  
He would kill the ringbearer, and the fate falling upon Middle Earth then would be unthinkable. Her arms tightened around the small body, for she knew he was this world's only hope. As long as he lived, Legolas could not fully control the power of the ring. As long as he lived, there was hope.  
  
Lost in thought, she almost ran into the large door in front of her. Frodo clung to her, his legs started to take her breath.  
  
"Frodo," she gasped, "Frodo, I promise I will not drop you."  
  
His limbs relaxed a bit, allowing her to use one arm to push against the door. T'was bolted shut.  
  
The footsteps fell closer behind her as she frantically pushed against the door. It would not open. Frodo wept uncontrollably into her shirt as he could see the shadows approach from afar, his body shook in fear. The young woman ran her hands through her long hair, pushing against the door with all her might.  
  
"Open, you forsaken door!!!!!!!!!!" she yelled.  
  
There was a small flash and squeak, the door opened wide into the dim courtyard, the twilight of a new morning had begun to bring light upon darkness. With Frodo still attached to her mid, she rushed out the door, bolting it tightly behind her; she turned and froze.  
  
A great smile greeted her from horseback. Legolas dismounted slowly, basking in the shocked silence. Around him stood an army of orcs and a battalion of elves, all had arrows, swords and speers pointed in their direction. There was no escape. Frodo whimpered.  
  
"You forsake my hospitality so soon, I am insulted my dear Galen," his voice was mocking a superior smile had permanently engraved itself upon his lips. Galen glared at him, her green eyes pierced his but he shook off the momentary rush of emotions that flooded through him.  
  
"Pass the hobbit, please," Legolas smiled broadly, exposing small fangs that had grown from his teeth.  
  
"Never," Galen hissed, pulling Frodo closer to her. The hobbit almost choked her he held on so tight.  
  
"We both know, I need the hobbit ali-," Legolas swallowed his words as Galen's flaming red mane slowly was shaken into a long braided waterfall of a gold. Her green eyes burnt like flames inside his heart, her skin shimmered brightly. Legolas gasped as he saw before him, Haldir, holding Frodo tightly in his arms.  
  
"Legolas, let me go, I beg of you, please," the familiar voice pleaded.  
  
The tall slender body was close to his, he felt his soft lips upon his skin. The familiar touch caressing his soul, he closed his eyes.  
  
"Please, let us go my beloved," Haldir's voice whispered.  
  
Warm lips touched Legolas' cold yet still soft lips, saliva mingled in a tender, loving kiss. Silence fell upon the courtyard as the by standing mass of elves and orcs stood in confusion as the two elves embraced in a loving kiss.  
  
"Help me, Haldir," a soft voice whimpered from deep within Legolas' soul. He opened his eyes slowly, Haldir's mane shone red in the sunrise, falling wildly past his shoulder.  
  
"NO!" Legolas bellowed, his arms pushing Galen's form away from him, sending her stumbling back, Frodo fell to the floor. She caught herself and protectively shielded him with her own body.  
  
"Your tricks do not work with me anymore, wench!" He struck her across the face hard.  
  
"I will have the hobbit, alive," he struck her again, her lip split open, blood spilled over the ground, "look at the sun," he grabbed her chin, "look at it! For it is the last time you shall look upon it!"  
  
He threw her aside, his long arms wrapping around Frodo's shivering body, picking him gently off the floor. He looked at the guards.  
  
"Do with her as you please," he snarled.  
  
His hand caressed the dirt crusted locks of the hobbit, but instead of bending Frodo to his way the hobbit began to kick and scream trying to fight out of Legolas' tight embrace. The elven guards picked up Galen, pushing her into each other's arms, laughing when she stumbled to the floor. Every time she fell, a boot connected with her body, sending her convulsing on the floor.  
  
"Galen!!!" Frodo screamed, "Galen! Don't leave me here! I do not wish to go back, Galen! Help me! Help me!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Legolas struck Frodo's face and carried him away from the courtyard. Galen faintly heard the pleading cries of Frodo not to leave her.  
  
"Frodo!" she screamed, "Frodo! Don't give up hope! Don't ever give up hope! Frodo!!!!"  
  
Long hands picked her up, she coughed, blood ran across her eyes taking her sight. Barely, she could make out the form of the head guard grinning at her as he struck her face and licked up the blood that ran from a cut across her eye.  
  
Galen felt rough hands groping her, tearing the ragged clothes from her bruised flesh until she was rendered helplessly naked before the eyes of the lusting guards eager to consume her pale body. Sickness crept up her throat; laughter rang in her ears as she vomited upon the ground.  
  
Consciousness faded slowly from her mind as coarse ands violently pulled her against sickly warm bodies. Sallow skin touched hers, draining the life from her as she hazily felt the guard enter her; too sick she was as though she could have cried out. Instead she choked on her own blood as it collected in her throat, her head hanging upside down causing her to fall deeper into semi-consciousness.  
  
A groan called her back from soothing darkness, hot liquid spilled over her body, burning her as it touched. Sickness convulsed her stomach but she was too weak to vomit again. Unsure of where she was, her eyes opened slightly. The guard was a different one than the one she remembered, he grinned at her as he put himself back into his trousers. The arm that supported her disappeared; her face was wet with water and mud, her mind slipped into nothingness.  
  
It was infinite pain that made her open her eyes, stabbing pain that disrupted the peaceful darkness of her mind. Her body hurt down to her bones as she pushed herself onto her elbows. A large hand gently wrapped around her arm, pulling her up. Her green eyes stared into pools of gentle oceans.  
  
"Aragorn," she whispered, then the world faded into black again. 


	5. Part 5

***  
  
"Legolas," Haldir woke with a start, his gaze darting across the forest, but the only elf in sight was sitting beside him, watching him closely. Celeborn seemed to almost flinch at the name, but he said nothing, he just looked at Haldir. His eyes looked more alive, but sorrow was still written deeply into them.  
  
"We must leave this place," Celeborn finally broke the silence, "we must go now."  
  
Without another word, he climbed his steed and rode towards the narrow pathway. Haldir moved not.  
  
"We must leave this place now!" Celeborn's voice broke slightly as he spoke.  
  
"You cannot pretend this isn't happening," Haldir spoke, looking firmly into Celeborn's eyes, "you cannot pretend this does not affect you!"  
  
"Haldir, don't," Celeborn looked away, "you do not understand, I-,"  
  
" I understand," Haldir interrupted him angrily, "I understand just as much as you! You are not the only one who has lost the one they love. You cannot pretend this isn't happening!"  
  
"You want me to acknowledge what is happening? Fine," Celeborn dismounted and walked to wards him, "my heart has been ripped from my body. Every night she is not beside I feel like a piece of my soul is missing. I can feel when he hurts her, I can feel when he thrusts inside her, releases his dark essence within her and enjoys how he corrupts her. I feel you inside my very soul right now, and I feel that there is a part of my heart that is healing. I long for your touch as much as I long for hers and I know you feel the same. And deep inside your heart, you wish them both lost; you wish them beyond our aid. I know this, because I know I do and it hurts my very soul that I could be thinking such things, I-," Celeborn stopped himself and merely stood there, silently, only his shoulders giving away that he was weeping.  
  
"This fate has bound our souls so we shall not perish," Haldir's arms wrapped around the slender figure drawing him into a gentle embrace, "question not our fate, it will bring our downfall. I need you; by the stars I need you near, for I cannot accomplish this without you. Do not give into your sorrows, Celeborn, remember who you are."  
  
T'was just after sunrise, when the two elves continued their journey, allowing the horses to gallop freely as they traveled through the lands. Their hearts beat within each other, a friendship bound them deep within their souls. They sped towards a small camp hidden inside a small cave at the side of the mountains not far from Minas Tirith.  
  
When the cave came in sight, they dismounted, the horses scattered away from them. Two elves wandering through these lands together could conceal themselves easier afoot than on horseback, and the horses knew instinctively where they needed to be.  
  
"Who is it that we seek, Celeborn?" Haldir inquired as they climbed a rocky path up towards the cave.  
  
"We only know her name, Galen, we know not much about her, but she has been trusted by Mithrandir, we trust her accordingly. She had gained access to Minas Morgul, we do not know how, she sent a falcon with a message that she will be returning with the hobbit or not returning at all."  
  
As they reached the ledge in front of the cave they realized their approach had been watched. Elven archers were kneeling hidden behind the rocks, their arrows stiffly stretching the bowstring, their eyes fixed upon the side of the mountain. None would approach with bad intentions and live to tell the tale.  
  
"Greetings my frie-," Aragorn extended his arms in welcome.  
  
"Haldir! Celeborn!" Three hobbits darted out from the cave flinging themselves against their elven friends.  
  
"You look verrah horrib'el," Pippin remarked loudly, "you hav' no' eaten it weeks it seems."  
  
The elves could not help but chuckle, even Celeborn had grown rather fond of them, with a laugh he knelt down to the hobbit who frantically was hugging his knee. They embraced each other amicably, but Celeborn felt the sorrow embedded within their souls; he knew Frodo had not returned.  
  
"Yer jus' too tall for yer ow'good, Celeborn," Pippin smiled forcibly as Celeborn touched his shoulder gently.  
  
"Do not give up hope my little friend," he smiled and got back up embracing Aragorn.  
  
"There are no good news, I can sense it, my friend, tell me what has happened," he spoke and walked into the cave along with Haldir and the hobbits.  
  
"Galen was unable to return the hobbit to us," Aragorn lowered his head, "her attempt to escape was diffused by Legolas himself, I found her not a week ago. She-,"  
  
"is dead, isn't she?" Celeborn's voice seemed to lose hope.  
  
"No, but I fear she wishes for death more than anything right now. I found her by a river, naked, more broken than alive. We are not sure if she will recover her mind enough to be coherent."  
  
Celeborn silently hung his head. This woman, as much as he mistrusted her, had been what seemed their only chance. Without Frodo, the ring would betray Legolas as it had betrayed Gollum and Isildur before him. They entered a small pathway leading deeper into the darkness.  
  
"How deep into the mountain does this cave lead us, Aragorn?" Haldir asked, his voice filled with discomfort. He was not used to barred rocks all around him, on top of him. He felt enclosed and trapped. A sudden anxiety forced his breath out in small gasps. He wished not to be in this place any longer. A gentle hand sought his and squeezed it.  
  
"Breathe, Haldir and the feeling will pass," Celeborn smiled gently, "trust me."  
  
Haldir closed his eyes and for a moment the image of Legolas flashed before his mind. The golden hair moved slightly in the warm breeze; he was naked, drinking the sunrise into his body. Pale skin glowed warm and full of life. Bright blue eyes smiled at him, as soft lips leant into a gentle -  
  
"Haldir!" Aragorn's voice came worried from above the elf.  
  
Aragorn, as well as Celeborn, kneeled by his side. For some reason, he was on the ground, his head throbbing painfully.  
  
"Perhaps it is better if you rest outside for a bit," Aragorn spoke softly, his fingers gently feeling Haldir's head beneath the golden hair, "exhaustion and caves can break the strongest elf."  
  
Quickly a guard and three very concerned hobbits had flocked around Haldir and brought him outside. The hobbit's voices were speaking of malnutrition and elves needing to eat more regularly if they sincerely thought of winning this war.  
  
"I am glad he was not able to remain here," Aragorn whispered.  
  
"Why is that, Aragorn?" Celeborn's grey orbs looked intently at the man.  
  
"Celeborn," Aragorn sighed, "I spoke not the truth when I spoke of Galen."  
  
"I gathered," Celeborn's eyes narrowed, his mistrust grew.  
  
"I found her, naked and violated by a river. What no one but the healers, you, I, Glorfindel and, soon, Elrond know, is that her mind is sharp, her body healed quicker than even an elf could heal. Yet something is not right. She falls into trances and speaks of great evil, greater than Legolas, greater than any evil known to Middle Earth. I fear we are losing her to shadow."  
  
They entered a small hall; the ceiling so low Celeborn wished he had followed Haldir's lead and lost consciousness. The light was dimmed, only two torches were lit, the others remained cold. Two healers sat on the barren rock, their hands nimbly turning an array of leaves and blossoms into a fine powder. Opposite of them, a cloaked figure was huddled between the rocks.  
  
Instinctively, Celeborn crouched a few feet from her, his palms turned towards her. Aragorn spoke quietly to the healers, watching the two closely. The most vibrant green eyes Celeborn had seen stared at him, not blankly, not scared, but distanced and calculating.  
  
Suddenly, Celeborn felt the world shift around him. The cave dissolved into complete darkness. Before him, he saw Legolas standing upon a ledge, at his feet, Galen lay, her heart pierced by a black arrow. Then, the moment passed, and the cave returned to its uncomforting self.  
  
"You must always remember she who your heart belongs to eternally," Galen whispered, "it is the only way to win the deciding battle. Always remember her," then her eyes glazed over and she sat staring into nothingness.  
  
"She has done this many times now," one of the healers spoke quietly, "she is fighting an internal battle we cannot ease for her. The fever she has is driving her close to insanity. Whatever this poor woman has seen, I would not wish on my worst enemies."  
  
"Can you help her," Celeborn asked, his mind falling into deep thought. The image he had seen disturbed him deeply, but her words were what kept his heart tightened, his throat dry.  
  
"We can but ease her mortal suffering," spoke the second healer, "the rest is up to her and time."  
  
Celeborn looked again upon the curled up form, for a moment the green eyes sparked at him.  
  
***  
  
Legolas lazily stretched on his bed, curving his back in a very feline manner. Frodo could have sworn he heard the elf purr as the golden sun shone upon his body. He was so unlike any evil they had encountered. He seemed to be constantly balancing upon a thin line, each step to the side would mean torment and death.  
  
Frodo sat curled up in an oversized armchair, his small frame looked lost in the crimson upholstery. It had been but two days since the hobbit had last seen Galen. Her death had changed all. Legolas had not sent him back to the dungeon, but bathed him and given him clothes and even his own bed in the same room Legolas sought rest.  
  
The elven warrior looked much the same as he did when Frodo had first met him. Had it not been for the small golden band dangling from his neck, the hobbit could have imagined that this were Rivendell and not the dark fortress of Minas Morgul.  
  
Quietly, Frodo plucked a grape from the large fruit bowl on the table by his chair and nibbled on it. He enjoyed this moment of peace and serenity just after the sun had risen above the horizon. Far away seemed the memory of Galen and the shire; even the ring was forgotten in those moments. A pitiful sound disrupted the silence.  
  
The hobbit looked up; the sound had come from Legolas direction, but the elf was lying tangled in his sheets, fast asleep. Frodo plucked another grape thinking t'was but his imagination when he heard the sound again.  
  
Perhaps a bird had gotten caught inside the room, Frodo thought, but then he remembered that there were no birds here. He heard it again. T'was not a bird, he realized, but a small whimper. Slowly, he climbed out of the armchair and walked carefully around the bed.  
  
The tormented sound came from full red lips, hidden behind a waterfall of golden hair.  
  
"Legolas," Frodo whispered, but the elf was still fast asleep.  
  
Diamond sparkles gently flowed across the pallid face; Frodo had never seen an elf cry before and extended his hand to touch the crying features gently. He could feel the warmth of Legolas' body as his fingertips were so close to his skin that any movement would connect the two. Frodo hesitated.  
  
The elf stirred slightly in his sleep; Frodo withdrew his hand slightly. His eyes again fell on the sobbing figure. Any possible outcome of the situation played through his mind and settled with two possibilities. Legolas would awake if he touched him, and most likely kill him or Legolas would stay asleep.  
  
Slowly Frodo's fingers moved closer to Legolas' fragile cheeks. His whole body and mind concentrated so hard upon the elf staying asleep that his little body almost vibrated. He almost screamed as he saw vivid blue eyes look intently at him. He held his breath, Legolas was still asleep, his eyes were closed.  
  
"You are going to drive yourself insane, Frodo Baggins," Frodo whispered to himself.  
  
Collecting himself, he extended his hand a bit further, his body leaning slightly onto the bed. He needed to touch Legolas, he knew not why, but he knew that it was meant to happen now, the consequences mattered not. He gasped as his small fingers connected with the silken skin.  
  
The reaction was so sudden that Frodo was unsure of what had happened. The sobbing had momentarily intensified so much that he feared Legolas would wake himself. Then the sobs had turned into a loud tormented scream. Still asleep the elf had curled himself into a corner of the bed, whimpering quietly. Frodo crawled onto the bed.  
  
His small hands touched Legolas' shoulder gently, soothingly caressing them. The elf woke not, but the whimpers grew smaller and the tears ebbed. Carefully, Frodo embraced the elf with his short arms, kissing his cheek gently.  
  
"Don't cry," he whispered, feeling strangely disconnected from himself.  
  
"Haldir," Legolas whispered in his sleep, a soft smile playing around his lips as he fell into a deep dreamless state. Frodo held him long after he had spoken.  
  
"Frodo," a gentle hand carefully shook his shoulder, "Frodo wake up."  
  
Slowly, Frodo's eyes fluttered open. He remembered not when he had fallen asleep, but the sunrise had turned into a sunset. Legolas remained asleep curled up beside him. He looked almost peaceful, Frodo thought. Then his attention was drawn to the light shining in the corner of the room.  
  
Serene blue eyes smiled at him. The Lady Galadriel stood quietly beside the bed, her finger extended across her lips, signaling him to be quiet. The tainted light he had seen shine from her so often before when Legolas had bid her to his sheets had vanished and in place was a crystalline white glow.  
  
"Shh," she looked at Legolas who stirred in his sleep, "come with me."  
  
As quietly as possible, Frodo climbed off the bed and followed the Lady of Light out of the room. Outside the chamber, Frodo realized all were asleep, just as Legolas was. Even the mangled bodies of the orcs looked peaceful. The hobbit believed he could see the faint shadow of once beautiful elves.  
  
"Galadriel, the guards," Frodo's eyes widened in surprise, "they are all asleep."  
  
"Yes, Frodo," Galadriel smiled, "they are asleep. Unfortunately we have not much time. The enchantment will wear off before dawn."  
  
Frodo looked at Galadriel, taking a few steps back, almost as if fearful of her presence.  
  
"Do not fear, ringbearer," she spoke softly, "ancient is the energy that binds all elves, corrupted or pure. Few remember it now and fewer make use of it. My power has not returned completely, we must hurry and find Nenya before he awakens again."  
  
"But Minas Morgul is so big, we will never find it before dawn!" Frodo exclaimed louder than he had planned.  
  
"Shh," Galadriel almost hissed looking around, "I am bound to Nenya just as you are bound to The One Ring. That is why he has not killed you yet. He cannot control the ring without you."  
  
"Oh," Frodo whispered as the rushed across a great hall, which ended in a narrow pathway.  
  
Faintly Frodo remembered Galen, who had rushed through this pathway not long ago, yet it seemed so far he could barely grasp it. He felt strangely responsible for her death and the torture she must have endured before her eternal unrest.  
  
"Worry not about your friend, Frodo," Galadriel whispered as she entered a side passage, "she is not dead."  
  
"She is not?" Frodo's eyes lit up.  
  
"What interesting news you bring to my ears," a voice sounded behind them.  
  
***  
  
"Here Haldir, ha' somm' o'this," Pippin shoved a large bowl of stew in front of Haldir's sickly pallid face, trying to feed him with a wooden spoon.  
  
"No, Pippin," Haldir laughed trying to push the hobbit off his lap, "no, I am alright. Honestly. Two bowls of that delicious stew were quite filling!"  
  
Haldir finally had enough and stood up, picking the hobbit up as if he were nothing and throwing him over his shoulder. Pippin laughing so hard tears shot to his eyes as he playfully pounded his fists against the elf's back was put neatly onto a large rock.  
  
"Sit!" Haldir smiled, "and eat."  
  
Pippin obliged the request more than happily.  
  
"Yrch!!!" several elven voices yelled pointing towards the south.  
  
Haldir nimbly jumped onto an elevated ledge, his gaze directed towards a small band just by the horizon. Orcs, many of them, chasing a rider, an elven rider.  
  
"Glorfindel!" Haldir exclaimed; his had reaching for his bow and arrow.  
  
Already about a dozen elves had climbed onto the backs of their horses, racing down the rocky paths. Their bows, arrows and swords hung readily from their bodies. Haldir hesitated not and quickly pulled himself atop of his cream coloured steed.  
  
The horses raced across the plains towards the band of orcs slowly catching up with the blonde elf, racing his horse near complete exhaustion. Glorfindel did not know how long they had been chasing him. He remembered traveling from Rivendell back to the cave near Minas Tirith. Elrond had sent him with a scroll and a small pouch filled with something he was unable to identify. The orcs had come out of nowhere. Arrows had zoomed by his head before he had been able to sense their presence. Since then he had ridden hard, trying to avoid the straight route to the cave, as to not lead them there. The stamina of elven horses was much greater than that of normal horses, however even that stamina could be depleted. Glorfindel knew his horse was near death.  
  
Haldir and the others flew across the planes at speeds unimaginable to men. Their only objective was to save the message at all cost. Their own death was acceptable, so was Glorfindel's. The band came within range of arrows, Haldir let go of the mane and tightened his bow; the arrow precisely hitting an orc between the eyes.  
  
Glorfindel's blue eyes sparked with hope as he saw the elven warriors race towards him. His horse seemed to have gained new confidence at the sight of his companions and sped up. The orcs had reached the flanks beside him; nasty looking blades tried to cut into his flesh, to poison and kill him. Though they missed, Glorfindel knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. Orcs had appeared on the other side of his horse.  
  
Noticing his friend's distress, Haldir drew one of his daggers, leaving his bow hanging loosely over his shoulder. He maneuvered his steed away from the group, driving it towards Glorfindel. His green eyes narrowed, eyeing Glorfindel who lost his dagger in the throat of an orc. The messenger was unarmed now; the orcs knew this. The first one jumped.  
  
The orc missed Glorfindel's horse as the elf tore the horse into a tight curve, dashing out of reach. The body was mangled under sharp hooves, leaving but a bloody pulp behind. The messenger saw Haldir ride towards him at incredible speed. He saw the concentrated face; the narrow eyes and he knew what it was that he had planned. Glorfindel led his horse directly at Haldir.  
  
Time seemed to have slowed down. Glorfindel's eyes were fixed upon Haldir's; his hands still clutched the mane as he brought one of his slender legs onto the horse's back, crouching behind the sweaty neck of the steed. Haldir's hand let go of the mane, extending his hand towards Glorfindel.  
  
Gracefully, Glorfindel jumped as their horses passed. Haldir's hand grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the horse, the pouch and scroll tightly attached to the messenger's belt. Glorfindel sat in front of Haldir, facing him, his eyes widened, his lips opened but not a scream came from them. Just a small trickle of blood as the orcish arrow twisted into the elven back.  
  
Before he could react to his friend's injury, Haldir tore the horse around, galloping back to the mountains. The other elves swiftly diminished the horde of orcs to a tangled mess of dead or dying bodies, burning their remains so they would never be found. Haldir raced his horse at eternal speeds to reach the caves, whispering quiet words of comfort into his friend's ear. Glorfindel barely heard him as he fought for consciousness.  
  
The two elves nearly fell off the horse as it came to a abrupt halt before the cave's opening.  
  
"Aragorn!" Haldir yelled, "Celeborn!"  
  
Tears clouded his vision as he felt his friend's life slip away between his hands.  
  
Celeborn and Aragorn rushed out of the cave together with three very distressed hobbits.  
  
"What happen- oh no!" Celeborn carefully took Glorfindel from Haldir's arms as Aragorn sent the hobbits back into the cave. The elven Lord held Glorfindel closely motioning Haldir to pull out the arrow.  
  
"This will hurt only briefly, my friend," he whispered, his lips brushing softly against Glorfindel's pointed ear.  
  
Haldir's lithe hand wrapped firmly around the slimy shaft of the arrow, grimacing as the poison burnt his skin and jerked back. The arrow fell onto the ground followed by a flood of crimson rivers. Celeborn's hand covered the small but deep wound unable to stop the overwhelming bleeding. Red liquid ran between his pale fingers soaking the ground.  
  
Slowly, Celeborn knelt, laying the fading elf upon the ground. Haldir's hand gently rested upon the slowly rising and sinking chest,; the other caressed the faintly glowing skin of Glorfindel's face. Celeborn looked sadly into Haldir's tear-filled green eyes and shook his head; then carefully touched Glorfindel, his hands glowing slightly.  
  
Haldir could feel the weakened heartbeat inside Glorfindel's chest. He bent to kiss the cold forehead gently, his lips lingering on the silken skin. Celeborn's lips touched the forehead gently, a small light traveled from Glorfindel through slender hands into the essences of Haldir and Celeborn. Then Haldir heard a small sigh; the graceful heart had fallen silent. The last breath escaped Glorfindel's lips.  
  
"Be at peace, my friend," Haldir whispered, tears falling from his eyes.  
  
"I am sorry, Haldir, Celeborn," Aragorn spoke softly squeezing Haldir's shoulder gently, allowing it to linger just a tad longer than need had been.  
  
"We will bury him at nightfall," Celeborn stood tall and composed, his eyes however reflected his sorrow like a looking glass. Then he turned and disappeared into the cave; clutching Glorfindel's message in his hands.  
  
"Haldir," Aragorn spoke softly, his voice was full of pain as well.  
  
"Please see to the hobbits Aragorn," Haldir looked at the three curled up hobbits sobbing between the rocks, "they must know Glorfindel died an honourable death, possibly saving us all." With those words Haldir disappeared after Celeborn, forgetting the infinite darkness of the caves.  
  
He found the Lord of Lorien standing in one of the narrow pathways, far away from the habited parts of the caves. It was completely dark aside from the faint glow of both elven bodies.  
  
"This is not supposed to be," Celeborn spoke quietly, caressing the velvet of the pouch gently, "everything feels wrong as if I am trapped in a horrible nightmare, but I cannot get out. Haldir I_," Celeborn's lips were sealed by a gentle kiss as the Lorien guard leant towards him.  
  
Instead of pulling away, Celeborn returned the kiss, tasting the tender lips of his friend, drinking his compassion and comfort as their tongues intertwined eternally. Haldir's hands ran along the sculpted chest of his Lord and lover, unlacing the dirty tunic, letting the light fabric slide to the floor.  
  
"Let me comfort you," Haldir whispered, kissing the prominent collarbone.  
  
Celeborn sighed as he felt dexterous fingers open the lacing of his trousers. His hands began to roam over Haldir's beautiful body, undressing it gently until the guard stood naked before him. With a smile, Celeborn absorbed the perfection of Haldir's form. He ran his fingers across the contoured shoulder blades, kissing the base of his neck.  
  
A fragile moan escaped Haldir's lips as Celeborn pulled him closer to his own naked form, kissing him passionately. They could feel each other's fiery arousal. Celeborn's hands slipped around Haldir's waist, his sylphlike fingers cupped the hardening loins of his lover.  
  
"Love me," Haldir whispered, his hands running through the silver and golden strands of Celeborn's hair.  
  
"Yes," Celeborn whispered, pressing his rigid elfhood against Haldir, eliciting a louder moan.  
  
Their grief was evident on their faces; tears were in their eyes. They sought comfort in each other's arms as Celeborn gently entered his lover, kissing his ear and cheek lovingly. He tasted the saline tang of Haldir's tears and slowly kissed their path towards Haldir's lips, entangling him in a gentle kiss, mingling saliva and tears.  
  
The light within the elves grew stronger, replenishing their souls with warmth and comfort as Celeborn thrust deeper into Haldir, bringing forth moans of pleasure and healing. Their bodies moved in endless unison. Celeborn's arm was wrapped tightly around Haldir's waist, drawing him as close as possible. Their lips met when the crest of their pleasure overcame them, shuddering their shapes with waves of warm passion. Burning seed spilled the essence of their bodies before them as they stood panting and joined in he narrow hallway. Not far from them, three gleamy-eyed hobbits scurried away not wanting to disturb them.  
  
*** 


	6. Part 6

On a side note. ### indicates change of place  
  
Galadriel and Frodo stood still, staring at the figure in the doorway. Shrouded in a white cloak Legolas yawned lazily with a smile playing across his face. In his hand, he held Nenya, sparkling brightly for it was close to its master. The One Ring hung about his shoulder emitting a similarly eerie glow, distorting Legolas' features greatly.  
  
"Is this what you are looking for, my white queen?" With a pouty smile Legolas extended his hand, the ring neatly placed upon the silken palm. "If you join with me, you can claim it."  
  
Galadriel closed her eyes for a moment. The draw of the ring seemingly grew so strong that she was unsure she could withstand it. It called her softly, languishingly. It wanted her; it wanted to give her great pleasure and power. A gasp escaped her lips.  
  
"Galadriel," Frodo tugged on her simple white dress, "Galadriel, don't."  
  
"Ah, Frodo," Legolas smiled, "this does not concern you, my little one. I know she has instigated this and I am not mad at you. Now take your leave and we will forget about this."  
  
Frodo hesitated. He wished to help Galadriel, he wished to bring this to an end, to reclaim his ring. But how could he reclaim his ring if he was dead; and helping Galadriel would certainly bring this fate upon him. So, he lowered his head with a shy smile and trotted out of the room.  
  
"My white queen," Legolas spoke after he knew Frodo to be well on his way back to their chamber, "will you reclaim your ring and join me?"  
  
He stepped closer to Galadriel, his hand still extended, Nenya sparkling at her playfully. An overwhelming feeling overcame the Lady of Light, the shimmering from the ring penetrated her very soul, sending small shivers down her spine.  
  
"Yes," she whispered, her lithe fingers grasping the ring, her body leaning into Legolas, her lips joining with his.  
  
***  
  
"Have you spoken to Galen, Celeborn?" Aragorn inquired as Celeborn and Haldir emerged the cave again.  
  
"Not yet, but I will see to her immediately," the Lord of Lorien spoke, his voice remained unchanged.  
  
He looked at Haldir briefly, then disappeared into the darkness of the cave. The Lorien guard sought a rock to perch upon, watching the surrounding plains. Grief was plainly written upon his face. Aragorn felt the agony radiating from this elf's soul as he sat beside him.  
  
"Are you worried about him?" the king spoke softly.  
  
"About whom?" Haldir replied, not moving a limb.  
  
"Legolas," the name cut through the air like shards of ice.  
  
"Yes," Haldir finally spoke, "and no. Part of me wishes this torture to be over, part of me wishes to save him. For the greater good, we will kill him if we must. He defeated Sauron's armies and trapped his evil soul in Barad Dur. T'was not the power of light that did this. T'was an evil greater than we can imagine. Perhaps an evil beyond us all, but we when the time comes, we shall kill him and restore the peace of these lands."  
  
The pain was almost unbearable as Haldir thought of the ways he could kill Legolas, when it came to the end. And in this moment, he wished he had never left Lothlorien. He hid his face behind his knees as his arms wrapped around his calves.  
  
" I am truly sorry," Aragorn whispered as he allowed his hands to gently caress the sculpted back of the elf, "I wish I could take your pain."  
  
Aragorn's hand traveled across Haldir's shoulder and rested upon his face, gently wiping away the glistening trails of tears.  
  
The sudden urge to kiss the elf overcame Aragorn's mind and caused him sigh barely audible. However, he managed to restrain himself. Images of Haldir's naked body gracefully basking in the sun flashed before his eyes. Soothed by the king's touch, Haldir laid his head upon Aragorn's shoulder, closing his eyes slowly. Aragorn continued to stroke his back gently, but he did nothing else.  
  
Celeborn watched the two silently, as he and the red haired woman emerged from the cave. Both their eyes filled with sadness and terror of the things that had passed within the cave. Neither of them would speak of this. They merely nodded at each other respectfully and sat to join the hobbits for supper.  
  
An uncomfortable silence spread over the company while they sat by the fire and ate. Not even the hobbits seemed hungry, as they poked the deliciously smelling stew with their spoons, barely taking a bite here and there. Haldir nibbled the brim of the bowl rather than drinking and Celeborn merely stared at his bowl as if it were some sort of diseased vermin. "Whai, ha' somm' stew, Gal'en," Pippin nudged the woman clad in green and held a cup of stew under her face.  
  
"No, that's alright, young hobbit," she smiled, "for I cannot eat solid food. T'is a long story, and perhaps I shall be able to tell this tale soon."  
  
Pippin knew better than to press the issue. Tall ones usually seemed to feel that it was better to eat whatever bothered them up and pretend it did not eat them up. Galen seemed to be eaten a lot; Pippin decided and gave her a heartfelt hug.  
  
He told none that he could feel hot tears upon his neck nor did he tell of the small pouch Galen snuck into his pocket as she embraced him gently. The young hobbit remembered the bloody bruises he had seen on her thighs and breasts when Aragorn had carried her up the hill for he had ridden his horse near death. He remembered the screams and shouting and overall confusion as two healers had carried her off into the caves. Aragorn had instructed the hobbits to stay away from her until he told them otherwise. Now seemed to be otherwise.  
  
The slowly creeping sunset was interrupted by the galloping hooves of a horse at the bottom of the mountain. The entire party of elves jumped up and whispered amongst each other; Aragorn stood as well. T'was a messenger from Imladris who rode his horse right to the ledge bringing it to an abrupt halt in front of the fire.  
  
"The young Lords of Rivendell send me," he spoke as he dismounted, delivering a parchment to Aragorn, "a messenger from the South was able to break through the Misty Mountains. The young Lords Elladan and Elrohir and the Lady Arwen chased him up to the forbidden gates in the North and were able to kill him before he reached the lands where Melkor once dwelt. Though, the messenger was killed, the fortress of Imladris was left unguarded and Lord Elrond was-," alarmed faces stared at the messenger.  
  
"My step father, tell me he is not dead!" Aragorn's voice was near panic.  
  
"No, my Lord, t'is a worse fate he has to suffer. His minions took him prisoner and brought him to Minas Morgul, where now he holds two of the elven rings."  
  
There was uproar; elves and men spilled around the young elven messenger wanting to hear his tale. He seemed not much older than a young man who had just come of age. Yet his eyes told stories of gruesome battles, grief and death. He spoke softly with determination, not forgetting any detail of the message he had been told.  
  
When he had finished, Aragorn grabbed his pack and went to mount his horse.  
  
"What are you doing Aragorn?" Celeborn asked, standing up beside the horse, he was almost able to look into Aragorn's eyes.  
  
"I must go and save my father," he spoke trying to lead his horse towards the path down the mountain.  
  
"You will do not such thing, " Celeborn took the reigns firmly, "it is unwise to storm out into battle because of personal attachments."  
  
"I must go, please understand, I must."  
  
"No," Celeborn shook his head, "you must calm yourself, young king. T'is not wise to storm after your father and get killed in the process. You wish to save his life, you wish to save Middle Earth. Do what is best. Please."  
  
Aragorn dismounted and almost immediately disappeared into the cave. The hobbits set to follow, but a quick movement of Celeborn's hand stopped them. Overall, he seemed less burdened with grief; his figure sparkling with a newly won hope, even Haldir noticed this change and he could not help but feel a little jealous.  
  
Nightfall had come for hours, before the messenger left again, leaving all he had brought with him behind. He even traded his tunic and breeches with another elf and mounted a different horse. Nothing was left with him that could identify him as a messenger from Rivendell. Were he to be captured or killed, no information would be passed to the enemies.  
  
All had gone to sleep, but the ever-circling guards that switched in three- hour shifts. Haldir; who had sought sleep away from the others for he still was deeply affected by Glorfindel's death; was awoken by gentle arms wrapping around him.  
  
Startled at first, the Lorien elf's hands traveled for his dagger.  
  
"T'is just me, Haldir," Celeborn whispered into the slightly pointed ear, kissing the lobe lovingly, "I can feel your pain is still great."  
  
Silken lips nuzzled Haldir's neck. Slender arms drew him closer to Celeborn's body.  
  
"He is dead isn't he?" Haldir sighed.  
  
"Yes, he died not far from here."  
  
"The poor boy, he was just a little one still."  
  
"Yes, but he knew the danger that comes with the importance of being a messenger in these days. He died with great honour for he delivered his message and did not betray us."  
  
Lithe fingers gently turned Haldir's face, towards Celeborn's, their lips melted into a comforting kiss.  
  
"We leave when the sun sets again," Celeborn whispered softly, "until then, let me comfort your bleeding heart," his hand traveled along Haldir's side only to rest upon his loins.  
  
A soft groan escaped Haldir's lips as Celeborn's nimble fingers unlaced the leather trousers and slipped the long hand into the moist warmth that awaited him. The Lord of Lorien tenderly kissed upon the slender neck, his hot tongue trailing along the curve of the pointed earlobe.  
  
Tender and loving was not what Haldir would be able to withstand this moment of despair and sadness. His hand shot out grabbing Celeborn roughly by his neck forcing him onto his back, he rolled on top of the Lord of Lorien, grinding his loins hardly into Celeborn's.  
  
Jade eyes sparked passionately behind silver and golden strands of hair. Celeborn raised his hips to meet Haldir's motions, his lips slightly opened, he seemed to be taken over by lust and desire. The High Guard continued to violently grind his hardening loins against the rigid bulge in Celeborn's breeches.  
  
Haldir's head shot forward, biting Celeborn's bare chest, his hands tearing the breeches from insanely long legs. Sharp teeth broke through silken skin, drawing the sweet tasting blood of the Lord of Lorien, forcing him to cry out in pleasure and pain alike.  
  
Loving comfort and gentle touches were forgotten when Celeborn felt Haldir roughly enter him with a single thrust. His hands grasped Haldir's shoulders tightly, bruising them as their lips crushed into a passionate kiss.  
  
Only a few violent thrusts were enough to send both elves beyond all boundaries, their hot seed spilling over each other as they screamed out in pleasure and relief. Shuddering, they lay upon the rocks; Haldir panted atop of Celeborn, his golden hair fell into his face, hiding the bright green pools beneath a waterfall of light. Celeborn gently tucked a few strands behind his ear.  
  
"Such beauty and passion wasted on one of Mirkwood's spawns," he whispered as if to himself, "t'is a pity."  
  
He leant forward to kiss upon Haldir's lips, but he was met by the hard palm of a hand hitting him across the face.  
  
"Speak not of him like this again," Haldir growled pulling up his breeches, "and speak not of me like this again either."  
  
Celeborn sat up half shocked half angry, glaring at the one he had deemed so beautiful just seconds ago.  
  
"T'is the truth," he spoke, "no other elf would have been lured to the ring like this. T'was him who brought this doom upon is." "T'was foolish of me to think you wise," Haldir hissed angrily.  
  
"You dare to address me like this?" Celeborn rose to his feet towering over the High Guard, "remember the oath you swore. Remember whom it is you follow."  
  
"I follow whom my heart belongs to," Haldir's green eyes narrowed, "and as much as you wish it, t'is not you."  
  
It was Haldir who felt a hand cross his face violently and two arms that grabbed him fiercely, pressing him against the Lord of Lorien. Haldir could feel hot ragged breath upon his face, his loins stirred but he fought the violent touch.  
  
"You have forgotten whom it is you are loyal to," Celeborn bit his neck, drawing a slight moan from Haldir's lips, "t'is time I remind you of this."  
  
Both elves groaned, one with pleasure one with pain as Celeborn's hand dove into Haldir's breeches again, Haldir's elbow connected forcefully with the firm abdomen. Pain drove the air from Celeborn's lungs. He almost toppled over as Haldir removed himself from the touch of the Lord and moved a few paces back.  
  
"I am going to leave now, Celeborn," he spoke, his voice cruel and cold.  
  
"You know not what it is you are doing," Celeborn looked at him, his eyes no longer filled with anger but with compassion and foreknowledge of things that were to pass, "please, do not leave, for your own sake. T'is his call within you. He's summoning you to taint your soul, saturate it with his evil. If you leave now, t'has all been in vain."  
  
Haldir swiftly moved forward, his lips caught Celeborn's in a swift kiss, then he disappeared into the darkness. The sound of hooves slowly faded into the night. Celeborn's hand absent-mindedly touched his warm lips, tasting slightly bitter from Haldir's kiss.  
  
"Celeborn?" faintly the Lord of Lorien heard his name called, "Celeborn what is it?"  
  
He could not answer for his head swam with infinite desperation. The world seemed to fall into eternal darkness before his eyes, all that he loved lost beneath the shadow Legolas' reign cast. T'was over now. The end of the world had begun. Their fates were sealed.  
  
###  
  
Legolas lay sprawled out on his bed, wearing nothing but braids and a well- placed bed sheet. Next to him, lay the curled up figure of Galadriel, her golden hair fell over her body like a waterfall. She was asleep; Legolas ran his fingers slowly through her hair; a small sigh escaped from her lips.  
  
Slowly, the Prince of Mirkwood crawled out of bed, his naked figure stood in pale moonlight like a marble sculpture. He walked out on the balcony, watching the serene nightscape. Very, very far by the horizon, he could make out a horse and rider. He smiled, for he knew company would be about soon.  
  
Even greater his smile grew when he heard faint screams of agony from the catacombs. His humble abode slowly was filled with his former friends and lovers; he felt a twisted sense of family and peacefulness every time he heard Lord Elrond scream out with pain as his guards tortured him as they pleased.  
  
For a moment, the elf contemplated joining the torture in the basement, but then his gaze fell upon the large crimson armchair standing by the window. On it, a young hobbit lay curled into a thick blanket, sleeping peacefully. Legolas smiled and stepped beside the chair, running his fingers through the dark curls.  
  
"Wake up, little one," he whispered into the small ear, kissing the lobe gently.  
  
Frodo's eyes fluttered open slowly. He yawned and blinked, seemingly disoriented, at Legolas.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Let me show you something," Legolas smiled and picked up Frodo, like a child almost and carried him to the guardrail of the balcony, "see the sun is about to rise. And when she rises up to where that big star is, destiny will belong to us all."  
  
He kissed Frodo's sleepy lips gently, drawing the hobbit close to him. He could feel the power of the ring surge through him like an erotic snake inside his blood, heating his entire body with passion and desire. Frodo returned the kiss deeply.  
  
Small hands wandered across the naked chest, caressing the sculptured muscles with feather light touches. One hand continued its way down to Legolas' loins, gently caressing the hardening flesh whilst their kiss continued.  
  
One small hand continued exploring the throbbing passion, while the other slowly traced along Legolas' neck, following just beside the thin silver chain from which the ring dangled from. Legolas closed his eyes and moaned as Frodo began to squeeze him gently.  
  
One small hand slowly wrapped itself around the chain, traveling towards the golden speck that hung from it. Legolas moaned still with pleasure as the hobbit's lips bit the hardened nub on his chest.  
  
One small hand closed around the golden shimmer. Bright blue eyes were fixed upon it with lust and need for it. Frodo squeezed Legolas' hardened flesh, coaxing a loud groan from his lips and in one fluent motion violently tore on the silver chain.  
  
With the same fluidity, blue eyes shot open and blackened into depthless orbs. Fixed upon the small hand, a large hand shot out, tightening around Frodo's neck, the other twisting the small wrist until a nauseating crack disrupted the quiet night. The young hobbit wanted to scream but the hand tightened closer around his neck, the chain and ring fell into the long hand.  
  
"Death is too good for you vermin halfling," Legolas' voice was a deep growl from within, "you shall share your fate with Lord Elrond in the dungeons. Guards!"  
  
Two guards entered the room and dragged a whimpering Frodo from the balcony. Galadriel had woken from the commotion and appeared beside Legolas' naked figure.  
  
"The halfling tried to betray you," she whispered, "and he even left you longing for his touch."  
  
Her slender hands wandered down his firm stomach, her lips seeking his gentle kiss. Legolas melted into her hands as she skillfully brought him to his peak. With a wink, she licked the stickiness from her hands and her naked figure disappeared into the hallway.  
  
"I see you wish to play," he whispered, his eyes still blackened with shadow, and set out after the Lady of Light.  
  
Laughter as clear as bells rang as Galadriel danced through the great hall. What Legolas did not see was a sparkling silver ring around the ring finger of her left hand. Before he could catch up with her, a guard entered the hall.  
  
"We have a visitor, my lord."  
  
###  
  
"Celeborn!" the voice seemed to come closer through the darkened haze, "Celeborn, come back!"  
  
Jade eyes opened slowly, sparkling in the morning sun. Celeborn came to and Aragorn let out a relieved sigh. Yet still he seemed tense and worried.  
  
"What happened, Aragorn?" already knowing the answer the Lord of Lorien inquired.  
  
"The hobbits," Aragorn spoke, "they have taken their ponies and run away."  
  
"What?!" Celeborn sat up so swiftly stars began to dance before his eyes. He had expected that Haldir had not been found, but not this.  
  
"Just before the sun rose, they snuck away. The guards did not notice until it was long too late. I sent two bands of elves and men searching for them, but I fear they were not successful."  
  
Celeborn stared at Aragorn in disbelief. If the world had fallen to pieces when Haldir had left; those pieces now stood ablaze. He felt most utter ruin; the hole inside his heart sucked in all that was him, all of his soul and life. Nothing was left that could be done now. He surrendered himself to despair and sank slowly to the ground.  
  
"No Celeborn," Aragorn yelled in panic, "you cannot give in to this!"  
  
### 


	7. Part 7

"Sam, I'm cold," Pippin whispered his head ducked behind a vast assembly of jagged rocks.  
  
"I know Pippin, I know," Sam sighed, "but we are too close to Minas Morgul. We stand no chance if we light a fire now."  
  
The four hobbits indeed were huddled between a rock formation almost right beside the blackened walls of Minas Morgul. To their surprise the guards were few outside these walls. Only two elves seemed to be guarding a cave- like entrance. Though there was a great war about the lands they seemed not at all worried about intruders and often left their posts for long periods of time, not knowing three pairs of eyes were watching their every move intently. "We must get inside," Sam mouthed rather than whispered knowing all too well the heightened senses of the elves, "we must find Master Frodo."  
  
"When they leave again," Merry replied in the same fashion, "we shall make a run for it."  
  
It was not until twilight, when the guards left their position again, quite obviously to warm themselves with some of the wine the villagers had brought earlier that day. From the hobbits' observation, Legolas seemed enjoy many gifts from villages and towns from all over the lands.  
  
"Tho's trai'ors," Pippin had exclaimed ready to storm Minas Morgul by himself, but Sam had pulled him down behind the rock again  
  
"They aren't doin' this to betray us," he had whispered, "they're tryin' to keep 'emselves alive. They're tryin' to stay alive to make a diff'rence. Just like we're doin' it right now. Only, we're goin' to save Mr. Frodo an' chances are, we're not gonna live, but we just have to try."  
  
Slightly calmer, Pippin had sat down again, to continue waiting. Now, it was time. The guards had disappeared and in the cover of the night, the three hobbits snuck between the large wooden doors and into the caves below the mighty black fortress.  
  
The darkness was almost overwhelming. The hobbits almost expected a voice to yell out, indicating their discovery, or large hands grab them to drag them away for torture and death. The threshold was crossed. They were out of sight. Safe - for now.  
  
"What do we do now, Sam?" Merry whispered as they rushed through the dark hallways avoiding to be seen by ever waking eyes.  
  
"We find Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered back, "where ever he is," he added quietly.  
  
"Sam," Pippin exclaimed much louder than was safe, "Merreh, o'er he're!"  
  
Before Sam or Merry could react, Pippin had disappeared into a side passage and out of their sight. Hissing Pippin's name, the other two hobbits followed feeling a sense of doom burdening their hearts. Even if they found Frodo in this labyrinth of passages and hallways, how were they ever to find their way back out.  
  
"Pippin!" Merry whispered fervently, "Pippin where are you?!"  
  
"Merreh!" Pippin's voice came from the darkness, "o'er here! Look!"  
  
Merry and Sam rushed beside Pippin who was kneeling beside a large rock hiding him from the eyes that stood below. Before them was a bridge carved from the stone, barren, much like the bridge they had encountered in the bowels of Moria. Beneath the bridge was a hallway. In front of the only door stood two heavily armed orcs. "Frodo's in there," Pippin whispered.  
  
"How do you-," a blood shattering scream interrupted Sam, who suddenly turned a sickly white.  
  
"I follo'ed the screams," Pippin's face was pallid; cold sweat was pearling on his forehead.  
  
"Master Frodo!" Sam exclaimed drawing his sword, he would have stormed across the bridge, had not Merry and Pippin tackled him and pushed him to the ground.  
  
"We cannot just storm in there, Sam," Merry gently forced the sword from Sam's hand, "you know that."  
  
Time passed as the three as quietly as possible discussed their chances of actually making it into the room and what chance they had of being able to face who was torturing Frodo. Then the guards opened the door.  
  
"Bring him to Lord Legolas," a former Lorien elf sneered, handing a bloody bundle to one of the orcs who licked across the bloodied and bruised face, nodded and hobbled along the corridor.  
  
"Frodo, no!!!!!" Sam shot out from behind the rock, leaving all rational thinking behind him. He had not seen his beloved friend in half a decade. His heart broke into thousands of shards when he saw the battered body. Anger rose inside him until it exploded in a desperate attempt to save his friend.  
  
Sam leapt off the bridge, falling on top of the orc, sending it to the floor. Frodo rolled across the floor. Merry and Pippin jumped after Sam, their fall softened by the surprised bodies of an elf and an orc. Pippin was on his feet first, his small sword cutting the ropes of Frodo's hands. Blue eyes stared at him in disbelief.  
  
Merry had jumped up as well, his sword drawn as he ran towards Sam whose sword buried itself deep in the orcs throat. A gurgling sound came from the severed throat, then the orc was dead.  
  
"Sam!" a gurgling sound came from behind Sam s he whipped round. Pippin's sword fell to the ground as he screamed.  
  
Merry stood before them; his mouth opened, but instead of a sound a river of crimson blood came. An elven sword protruded from his abdomen. His green eyes widened, as he coughed up more blood. The elf stood above him in eternal triumph. He did not even see Pippin grab his sword, jump up and slice across the slender throat, leaving a bloody gash.  
  
The elf fell to the ground, his sword sliding out of Merry's body, the hobbit fell forward. The second orc suffered the same end as his partner as Sam's blade pierced his throat as well. Pippin had collapsed at his friend's side, turning him onto his back, the small hobbit hands pressed against the wound.  
  
"Merreh," he whispered, tears falling from his eyes onto the dying hobbit's face.  
  
Frodo had crawled beside Pippin whilst Sam stood a bit away, shaking still; he was covered in the black blood of the orcs.  
  
"Pip," Merry whispered weakly, "Sam.. Frodo. you must.go on. leave. now."  
  
"We're not goin' to leave you behind, Merry!" Sam protested, his face drenched with tears.  
  
"I'm dyin', Sam," Merry spoke, his face turning ashen, "promise you'll get out of here.. Promise!"  
  
"Promise," Sam whispered, Frodo and Pippin nodding weakly.  
  
"Thank you, my friends," Merry's eyes glazed over, his last breath escaping the small cold body. Pippin's body was shaken by sobs as he threw himself onto Merry's still chest.  
  
Sam sank onto his knees; his grief too strong to form words; he could not even cry anymore. He only stopped shivering when Frodo crawled up beside him, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and sobbed.  
  
"Celeborn," Galadriel's voice seemed so far away, too far to reach, "Celeborn, stand up."  
  
"I cannot," the Lord of Lorien replied inside his mind, "t'is useless."  
  
"My husband, you must get up, you must bring the king and the wizard with you. It is not your destiny to die here. It is not supposed to be like this. You must change the future in order to change the past. Please, my love, stand up."  
  
Celeborn's jade eyes flickered open slowly; his gaze met the young woman Galen's gaze.  
  
"T'is time you revealed yourself, galen I istari," he spoke quietly.  
  
The Lord of Lorien stood up, erecting himself to his towering height looking at the red haired woman intently. She merely nodded and produced a small vial from her belt.  
  
"This, he must drink," she spoke, "then you kill him."  
  
Aragorn stood beside them trying to comprehend what was going on.  
  
"You are a wizard," he whispered, "and you never told me this."  
  
"Time for explanation is rare. What I can however tell you is this is not what has been sung as your destiny. Fate has been trapped inside the void allowing him to escape. Evil greater than Sauron poured itself into the ring, tainting the soul of Legolas and by chance it killed him not. Now Middle Earth faces a darkness like it has not seen in almost 10,000 years."  
  
"What must we do?" Aragorn asked as they mounted their horses.  
  
"Attack," Celeborn spoke for Galen, "attack and hope he has not yet killed the ringbearer for the ring is still bound to the hobbit. Legolas thinks he needs the ringbearer alive to control the ring. What he does not yet know is that the evil within him has grown strong enough to control the ring. We must kill him. There is no other way."  
  
"But Haldir-" Aragorn began.  
  
"Haldir never knew of these plans," Galen answered before Aragorn finished the question, "he would never allow for Legolas to be killed. And if he stands between him and us, we shall kill him as well," the green eyes grew cold enough to give Aragorn a shiver.  
  
He remembered the kindness of Gandalf, his wisdom and love for these shores. Galen's eyes were filled with the same wisdom, however he could not see kindness or love. He saw the determination of a warrior. Celeborn seemed to trust her, but Aragorn was unsure whether he could bring himself to do so.  
  
Silently, he rode behind Celeborn and Galen who seemed to be in deep discussion of the things that would yet have to come to pass. At the horizon, he could see the jagged towers of Minas Morgul.  
  
"What are you doing here?!"  
  
There was no poise, composure had left the elf and instead shock has spread across the pale face of Legolas.  
  
" I heard you call inside my dreams," Haldir spoke softly, his green eyes shining like stars for the closeness to his lover soothed all pains he had encountered before.  
  
"I called you not," Legolas regained his composure, "why did you come here?"  
  
Instead of answering, Haldir unhooked the clasp of his cloak and dropped it to the floor. He stood before Legolas in dark leather trousers and a dark green jerkin and tunic. His golden hair was not tamed by intricate braids; but fell into his face freely as he approached Legolas. "Speak!" Legolas voice sounded almost threatened, "what is it you want? Who sent you?"  
  
"You called for me, my love," Haldir spoke gently, stepping closer beside Legolas.  
  
"Do not come closer," Legolas drew a dagger from the hilt, "I shall kill you if you do."  
  
"Then kill me now," Haldir extended his arms, "but torture me not by denying our love."  
  
He stepped beside Legolas, attempting to touch his long lost lover. Legolas however evaded the touch elegantly and swung the hand that held the dagger around. The blade glistened for a moment and disappeared in the green fabric of Haldir's tunic. Green eyes looked into blue orbs filled with shock.  
  
The blade cut upwards and was abruptly dragged to either side of Haldir's body. The Lorien elf stumbled back a few steps watching Legolas drop the dagger to the ground. For a moment they stared at each other intently.  
  
"I do not understand," Haldir whispered.  
  
"I am sorry, Haldir," Legolas whispered suppressing his tears.  
  
The tunic and jerkin fell to the ground, leaving the Lorien elf standing, his torso exposed to the chilled air of the fortress. His body responded immediately as he felt Legolas hot mouth upon his. Gentle fingers traced along the thin cuts the dagger had left upon Haldir's skin. Tasting his lover again, after such long time, Haldir cared not and wrapped his arms around the slender body before him.  
  
Their tongues intertwined in their passionate kiss. Their lips only parted when they needed to breathe again. Legolas' bright blue eyes gazed into Haldir's, for the first time in five years, he smiled an honest smile.  
  
"I was afraid I had lost you, Legolas," Haldir leant into another kiss.  
  
Nimble fingers peeled Legolas out of his white tunic; hot lips bit his tender pale flesh; a burning tongue flicked across his hardening nipples. Not having felt true pleasure such as this, Legolas felt faint as though he was losing himself within Haldir's touch. Strong arms picked Legolas up and he wrapped his legs around Haldir's hips.  
  
For a brief moment, Haldir thought of Celeborn and the passion they had shared. For a moment he remembered how they had spoken of Legolas' death. For a moment he gazed into Legolas' eyes and for a moment he knew Legolas had read his mind. For a moment he saw blue eyes turn into shadow and then the world turned black.  
  
"We will come back for him, Pippin, I promise," Sam pulled Pippin gently away from Merry's cold body. They had closed his eyes and hid him behind a large rock covered with his cloak. Meriadoc Brandybuck's life had faded in just an instant, a useless death for which Sam silently blamed himself. Had he not ran out from their hideout and in an enraged stupor attacked the orc; Merry would have lived.  
  
Quietly, the freshly reunited hobbits moved along the corridors. There was no time for celebration or happiness. Merry's death should not have been in such vain, but none culd shake the feeling that it was.  
  
A sudden noise disrupted the silence. The wooden door to their right shook briefly as something seemed to slam against it. A soft elvish curse followed this. Frodo, Sam and Pippin's eyes lit up as they recognized the voice.  
  
Almost grateful for the distraction, the three hobbits took to the lock on the door. Their small hands and swords worked well to their advantage and after a short time the door flub open revealing a very surprised Lord of Rivendell, standing with his sword drawn ready to fight armies of orcs. However, the army turned out to be three ragged looking hobbits.  
  
"Pippin? Frodo? Sam?" Elrond looked very confused, "but how-."  
  
"Really by chance, Lord Elrond," Frodo spoke quietly, his body still sore from the torture he allowed the elf's healing hands to touch him as he explained what had happened together with Pippin and Sam.  
  
When they reached Merry's untimely end, the three broke into tears. Long had their journey been, long and exhausting and by now, they had practically reached the end of all their strength. Without a word, Elrond gathered them into a loving embrace, soothing their hearts with his still strong presence for his heart had not yet been tainted by Legolas and The Ring.  
  
The presence of the Elf Lord brought great comfort to the hobbits. Though he had lost Vilya, his strength had remained. Too strong he was as that the torture could have robbed him of his will. Soon after his arrival, he had been forgotten. Legolas' mind was too scattered; Elrond suspected a great weakness slowly melting the ice under Legolas' feet.  
  
At the same time, he sensed a presence more powerful, but to his surprise it was not contained within the walls of Minas Morgul. A realization spread across his mind; the thought was most unsettling.  
  
"We must find Vilya and Galadriel," Elrond finally spoke, "if the Lady of Light has Nenya not all hope is lost." 


	8. Part 8

Galadriel looked over her shoulder. Finally she had lost Legolas and as naked as she was, wandered through the darkened halls. Things began to make more sense now. Now that Nenya was bound to her again. The evil that should be feared the most was not amongst these walls. It was nearing the fortress at rapid speeds. She could feel its presence deep within her soul; as yet another presence crept into her mind.  
  
There was another elven ring hidden inside these walls. Separated from its master, it lay waiting, unlike Nenya, calling fervently for the one that wielded her. Vilya, the ring of the air, radiated her soft blue light into the souls of all elves present, all elves but one. Her soft voice called out the name of her master.  
  
"Elrond," a faint whisper traveling through the fortress spoke.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell was inside these walls. Galadriel felt as though she had awoken from a dream. What had felt like an echo of herself torn between light and dark became clear. The nights of sickening dark pleasures flashed through her mind. The lady fell ill. The nightmares were not echoes of fears, but images of the past. She had lain with evil and basked in its pleasure. She had betrayed her husband and her ring.  
  
"Celeborn," her mind whispered, "my Lord and love, forgive me," she reached out past the walls of Minas Morgul, reaching for her lover's soul. Warmth and love embraced her as she found whom she sought. Though, something was wrong; a darkness crept closer to her beloved, a familiar darkness swallowing all.  
  
And then, she saw the truth. Her blue eyes widened, turning brighter as the images flooded her mind. Middle Earth. Green Fields. Frodo. The Ring. Nagul. Rivendell. A red-haired woman. The Fellowship. Deep mountain halls. Gandalf's fall. A red-haired woman. Legolas. Lothlorien. Haldir. Legolas. A red-haired woman. Legolas. Boromir's death. 'He died?' her mind asked. Helm's Deep. Fangorn. Emyn Muil. Gollum. A volcano. The Ring. Frodo. Legolas. Gollum. They fall. A red-heaired woman. Narya. The One Ring. Legolas. Gandalf. A red-haired woman.  
  
Galadriel's eyes turned white.  
  
###  
  
  
  
"Elrond," the Lord of Rivendell looked up from the embrace, his chestnut hair had fallen from its braids and hung in shimmering strands in front of his face.  
  
"Elrond," he heard a small whisper inside his mind and felt the gentle blue glow of Vilya emanate from inside him. The ring that had been so violently ripped from his finger when he had been taken from Rivendell.  
  
***  
  
The night was blacker than ever. Lord Elrond stood quietly in his study, lithe hands flipping ancient pages of parchment with even older inscriptions of Quenya marked upon them with fading ink.  
  
His sons were racing against time, hunting down another messenger out to alert the evil of the north. Were that messenger to reach his destination, what was left of Middle Earth would be extinguished. Barely, the elves and men left were able to fend against the forces of the south. Continuous attacks for four years had left the great elven cities near ruin. Rivendell was merely a shadow of its former glory.  
  
Then a year ago, the attacks had slowly ceased and instead of great armies, messengers on horses fast as the wind raced towards the gates in the north. In wild chases, the elves and men would stop and kill the messenger never to find a message with them. Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen counted to the fastest riders of Rivendell and thus more often then naught chased the messengers into their certain death.  
  
Discouraged, Elrond put down the book he had been flipping through. His hand shook slightly as he extended it towards the bookshelf. Never did he grasp for the velvet bound green book, for the sudden impact of grief upon his mind and soul caught him off guard. Tears streamed down his face as the regal elf slowly sunk to the ground.  
  
Vilya on his finger shimmered gently trying to comfort her master, her brother, her wielder. Elrond's hands wrapped arount his legs, his heard resting upon his knees. The dark hair flowed down the middle of his back, tamed from his face with most intricate braids.  
  
His mind wandered to the golden shimmers of Celebrian's hair, her loving and gentle smile. He missed her. He worried for their children. Elladan and Elrohir who were chasing one of the dark messengers and Arwen was traveling with a band of elves southward to meet the elves of Lorien. Still he knew, they were alive, he felt them strongly inside his soul. Yet, this comforted him not.  
  
"Elrond," he heard the fainst whisper of Vilya inside his mind.  
  
"The messenger.," her voice was faint as she whispered as though she wished to keep a secret.  
  
Elrond dried his tears with his robes, Still feeling faint with sorrow, he slowly rose to his regal self. He was about to turn towards the door to call for the messenger when a sudden pain shot through his back. There was a shuffling of feet around him; he felt rough hands dragging him across the cold stone tiles.  
  
The elven lord wished to defend himself, but he felt as though his entire body had been bound with invisible ropes tightening whenever he moved. His vision blurred as his arm was pulled away from his body.  
  
"Elrond," Vilya whispered in dire need.  
  
Rough hands pulled on the small silver band. A bright flash of blue exploded. The ground was unforgiving when Elrond fell. As he opened his eyes, he felt his vision blur with small trickles of blood that flowed from a cut across his forehead.  
  
The elf that had grasped Vilya, lay dead upon the floor, his head laying in a puddle of crimson blood and sickly yellow bile. A few feet from the dead body, Vilya lay on the stone tiles sparkling sadly.  
  
"Elrond," the small voice sounded inside his head, filled with endless sorrow and worry.  
  
Coughing to force air back into his lungs, Elrond tried to prop himself up onto his elbows, but the pain in his head, neck and back was like lightning rushing down his spine to saturate his entire being. Just as he was about to force his arm against the pain to grab ahold of the ring that was so much part of him-  
  
"Elrond!!!" Vilya's voice was a shrill scream inside his head.  
  
His name was replaced by a loud high-pitched scream inside his mind that forced the air out of his lings; he felt blood flowing from his lips and nose. There was another flash of blue; the scream was cut off. Silence. Nothing. Black. Meaningless.  
  
There was no sound. Like a haze, unconsciousness began to sneak upon the Lord of Rivendell's mind. Before he fell completely into nothingness; he felt himself being grabbed by two sets of arms and lifted upright.  
  
"Goodnight Elrond," whispered a gentle female voice, "Lord of Rivendell"  
  
Strands of fire blew in the wind a wooden thing touched his cheek sending him completely into darkness.  
  
Slowly, Elrond's eyes fluttered open. Still silence. As soon as he began to grasp consciousness, his mind searched for the faintest sound of his ring, his sister. Nothing. Time seemed to become non-existent. After a long while, guards entered the stone room that Elrond had deemed the dungeons.  
  
Shackled against the wall, Elrond soon discovered his disadvantage. His arms were chained above his head, connecting with the wall. His legs were bound by ropes at his ankles. He was barefoot, stained woolen breeches wrapped around long muscular legs. Loosely, a tunic hung from his shoulders, the unfastened lacing exposing a sculpted chest still filled with strength and vigour.  
  
The guard interrogated him, questioning about the on-goings between Lorien and Rivendell, but all their questioning brought them was a glare from deep brown eyes. Many days they returned, but neither torture nor promises could bring as much as a gasp to Elrond's lips.  
  
"Elrond?" an unfamiliar voice spoke inside his mine.  
  
***  
  
"Elrond?" Pippin looked at the Lord of Rivendell whose eyes had glazed over in memory.  
  
Elrond flinched as he was jerked back into the present, three pairs of big hobbit eyes staring at him.  
  
###  
  
Clad only in his breeches, Haldir lay unconscious upon the silken sheets of the bed in Legolas' chamber. Golden hair fell freely into his face and upon his chest. Slowly his chest rose and sank, accentuating the dark nipples erect in the cold night air. In the armchair beside the bed where Frodo had slept before, Legolas sat, drinking water from a silver goblet.  
  
In synch with his former lover, his chest rose as well, inhaling the crisp air that suddenly smelled much sweeter than before. Faintly, he remembered a time before this, when he had sank into Haldir's arms. Haldir who would embrace him lovingly, kiss him, love him. Legolas stood up just as he felt his mind fall into memories. Those times were gone. Things were different now. There were greater matters at hand. 


	9. Part 9

Slowly, Legolas walked over to a round stone table standing opposite of the bed. His tapered fingers traveled between the many crystal bottles that stood shimmering in the bit of light that was provided by the torches on the wall. It settled upon a small round one, crimson glass patterned with golden dragons.  
  
With great care, he picked up the small stopper and put it upon the table, where it made a small 'clink' as it touched the silvery mithril dagger laying beside the bottles. Legolas glanced at the blade, then picked up the bottle and tilted it into his goblet. Thick syrupy liquid flowed like crimson rivers, like lava, into the chalice.  
  
He rose the goblet to his lips, feeling the cold metal against his lips in contrast to the warm syrup that flowed into his mouth, soothing him. He smiled quietly to himself and swallowed, feeling the thick tang run down his throat.  
  
"Good morning, Haldir," he spoke without turning, addressing the elf that had just sat up on the bed.  
  
"Indeed," Haldir replied, "especially after you felt the need to maim me to welcome me back into your arms?"  
  
Legolas carefully placed the goblet onto the table and closed the bottle again.  
  
"T'is not like you did not deserve this punishment," he spoke not turning around.  
  
"Legolas, look at me!"  
  
The figure of the elf moved not. Haldir watched shoulders rise and sink more rapidly beneath the silken robes. He had known Legolas long enough to know that this meant the prince was angered. Very angered.  
  
"Legolas, please turn around," he spoke, softer now.  
  
Unexpectedly, the elf spun around. His body was tense, the blue eyes flickered black for a moment, then resumed to glare in a sparkling blue.  
  
"Why? Do you wish to look at me whilst you kill me? To make yourself feel better?"  
  
"No, Legolas, I would never-," Haldir began but was interrupted.  
  
"Of course!" Legolas spat, "you would rather stab me from behind, would you not? Would you prefer me clothed or shall undress so you can see your target better?"  
  
Legolas shook the robes from his shoulder standing naked before Haldir. Like a sculpture he stood before him, every muscle carefully carved and filled with pride. Legolas reached behind him and grasped the dagger from the stone table.  
  
"Legolas," Haldir began.  
  
"Perhaps," he spoke, ignoring Haldir, "I shall make this easier for you. Perhaps I shall guess where you would plunge this blade if you could." "By the Valar, Legolas listen to me!"  
  
"Do not interrupt me," Legolas hissed, "or I shall plunge the blade into your throat and enjoy it. You came to kill me and now you cannot watch me do this? Why would you prefer to plunge the blade between my ribs yourself? Perhaps right here?"  
  
Legolas dragged the blade between the bottom ribs, leaving a cut that cried small rivulets of blood down to his hips.  
  
"Or perhaps," Legolas dragged the dagger across his chest to his throat, "perhaps you wish to slice through my throat like one slices through an apple."  
  
Seeing the look on Haldir's face, Legolas changed direction with the dagger.  
  
"No?" He moved the blade to his chest, above his angrily pounding heart, "perhaps, the most ironic of all, you wish to bury the dagger inside my heart, like you once buried your love there."  
  
Legolas voice had lost its anger. It seemed empty and void of emotion now as he slowly pressed the blade into the flesh.  
  
"LEGOLAS!" Haldir bellowed, his green eyes flashing with anger, love, concern, pain.  
  
The blade dropped to the floor. Legolas stood completely still, staring at Haldir as though he could not believe the elf had dared to speak to him in such manner.  
  
"Legolas, I never wished to kill you," Haldir spoke passionately, "had you looked deeper into my heart you would have known this. T'was not my idea nor have I ever consented such an action. I am here am I not?"  
  
"If you are here not to kill me, then why are you here," Legolas spoke trying to fill his voice with coldness.  
  
"Do you remember five years ago, when you offered me your side?" Haldir's voice was soft and husky, "if you still need someone to fill that position, I would rather gladly take it."  
  
Legolas looked at him blankly and stayed silent.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"You're late," Legolas spoke softly.  
  
"The weather was bad," Haldir smiled, "Made traveling ver-."  
  
He spoke no further for his lips were sealed with a most passionate kiss.  
  
Without hesitation, Haldir replied the kiss wrapping his toned arms around the naked waist of his lover drawing him closer. Their lips melted together, their tongues exploring each other, dancing a most seductive dance as the sank onto the warm sheets.  
  
"I missed you," Haldir gasped between kisses.  
  
"By the Valar, Haldir," Legolas replied kissing the other elf's nape gently, "I am not whole without you."  
  
###  
  
"Aragorn," Celeborn's voice rang in the man's ears, "Aragorn are you listening?"  
  
The king's head snapped up as though he had been woken from a nightmare.  
  
"Yes, my lord?"  
  
Aragorn's mind had been exploring the steadily growing unease he felt towards his two companions, especially towards the so-called wizard. He was uncertain whether to believe her words. Indeed he had found her, battered, raped and beaten, near death by the river. However, something inside her had felt cold, like smooth metal sculpted into the face that had looked at him, exhausted but lacking fear or any emotion that he would have attached to a woman so violated.  
  
Since Celeborn had emerged from that cave with Galen; since Haldir and the hobbits had left the group, he had felt this unease growing within Celeborn as well. It felt as though he was being consumed from within. He shook his head. It could not be, surely he was tired and worn out.  
  
"Aragorn," Celeborn insisted, "do you remember what we spoke of?"  
  
Mechanically, Aragorn repeated the plan. Delegates they were, representing the peoples of the rebellion, wishing to surrender peacefully. Aragorn felt almost sick thinking of the words he was supposed to speak. Of the inferiority of man, of not knowing better, of wishing to be forgiven and his people to be spared.  
  
He had not listened to the rest of the plan, merely bits and pieces came to his ear about a small phial filled with a potion to return the free will to all of Legolas' prisoners and a second potion to immobilize him so Celeborn would be able to shoot him.  
  
He felt as though his mind was blanked, like something was hidden from his knowledge, something very important. His mind was puzzled and perplexed. Aragorn barely registered Celeborn and Galen gently pushing him through the black gates of Minas Morgul.  
  
###  
  
"We must find Vilya," Elrond spoke softly to the confused looking hobbits.  
  
"Aye that's gohna bey easeh," Pippin said lightly, "wey'll jus' search th' entire castle fo' herr. Withou' bein' seen o'course an' then wey'll put 'er on yeh and then whot?"  
  
"Peregrin Took," Elrond smirked, "I knew not of Halflings to be so filled with sarcasm. However, I do share your concern. But her call is near, I am sure of it."  
  
Sam unsheathed his sword, "then let's go, we haven't got all day."  
  
Faintly, Elrond smiled at the courage of the hobbits for he saw the pain that had deeply rooted within their hearts when Merry had been slain. Though, when he looked at Frodo, his concern grew for the small hobbit face seemed completely blank and void of all emotion.  
  
"Sam, you are right. Stay together young hobbits and be very quiet," with those words Elrond opened the door out of the cell and into the dungeons.  
  
The path was clear to either side, and only faintly Elrond was able to hear shuffling of feet rushing towards the Great Hall. 'It's begun,' he thought then chose the path towards the left leading slightly up.  
  
They walked on for a while, taking random lefts and rights it seemed. Every now and then Elrond would pause and listen, then point and walk swiftly forward. Soon, Pippin and Sam were completely confused as to where they were or how far away from the dungeons.  
  
"Sam," Pippin suddenly whispered, pointing behind him.  
  
Sam stopped in his tracks, "oh no. oh no. Master Elrond! Master Elrond! It's Frodo!"  
  
"What about Frodo, Samwi- oh."  
  
"He's gone," Sam said, looking distraught.  
  
"T'is as I feared," Elrond spoke, "he is calling them to him or perhaps." his voice trailed off as he began to walk into a darker corridor, closely followed by the two remaining hobbits.  
  
The corridor was dark, or would have been, but a steady blue glow seemed to hover in the air, illuminating the pathway with an eerie, surreal light. Elrond's breath came faster, a bit ragged as he neared the door behind which the glow seemed to emanate.  
  
"Stay here," Elrond said firmly, "she kills those who are not her bearer."  
  
Looking very scared, the hobbits stood beside the door watching Elrond disappear through the door, a flood of blue saturating the corridor.  
  
For a moment, the light threatened to become a blazing white, but when Elrond entered the room; the room turned into loving blue shimmer basking the Lord of Rivendell within it. Elrond smiled.  
  
"My brother," he heard the voice like bells inside his head, "you found me."  
  
"Yes, my sister," Elrond smiled, "I have followed your call. And now I beg thee to reunite with me."  
  
The blue shimmer that had filled the room faded slowly until it was contained to an area immediately around the ring. The elf lord bowed his head before the ring and extended his slender hand. Tapered fingers took the ring from the pillow it lay upon and slipped the ring over the long third finger of Elrond, snugly pressing against the skin. He smiled as he felt the comforting cool of the metal caress him.  
  
###  
  
Galadriel smiled. She felt the ring and the bearer were united again. Another feeling overcame her, causing her smile to fade slowly. Celeborn was here; and he had brought that woman.  
  
The pale face hardened, white eyes narrowed to angry slits. That woman was with him. She knew now. She knew how this had happened. And she knew what needed to be done.  
  
With lithe movements, Galadriel rushed towards the Great Hall.  
  
###  
  
Legolas groaned as he felt the hot breath of his lover against his face. Haldir's tongue traveled across his lips and down the slender column of flesh that was Legolas' neck. The Mirkwood elf gasped when sharp teeth sank into his skin just below his collarbone.  
  
Strong hands pulled Haldir back up to meet the hot lips of his lover. Their tongues delved into each other's mouths searching the other part of their soul. Legolas hand ran across the sculpted chest before him, nimble fingers playfully pinching erected nubs. Haldir moaned as fingers were replaced by a greedy tongue.  
  
Long finger entwined themselves is Legolas' golden mane, caressing the curve of his head gently. Mirkwood fingers moved to cup the firm globes of Haldir's behind while a mirkwood tongue snaked its way across a ribbed abdomen.  
  
"There was only you," Legolas whispered, "no matter whom I was laying with, there only was your face, your memory."  
  
"I know, my love, for I have felt the sa- oh by the valar, do not stop!" Haldir exclaimed as the tongue had moved from his stomach to nuzzle the soft hair that ran from below his navel down to the now rigid elfhood.  
  
Legolas smiled when he felt his lover arch beneath his touch and shudder deeply when his lips and breath brushed against the leaking tip of Haldir's throbbing flesh. T'was comforting to feel the closeness and trust of his lover again. His tongue gently flicked against the heated flesh, Haldir's hips slightly bucked. Expertly, the tongue ran across the pulsating length, flicking back and fourth. Haldir's mind was blank. Little did he care about the circumstances that had brought him here. All he felt was the closeness of his lover wishing to bring him pleasure. He moaned deeply as Legolas wrapped his hot lips around the tip.  
  
"I love you," Haldir whispered barely audible.  
  
"I lov-," Legolas began but his head snapped around as the door to the room opened swiftly.  
  
"My lord I - ahhh -," the elf guard struggled for poise, took a deep breath and began again, "My Lord, we have visitors wishing to discuss surrender."  
  
Legolas and Haldir both blinked at the guard that had averted his eyes from the intertwined naked bodies. For a moment the three stayed that way. As the guard seemed not to leave, Legolas slowly got up as though every move away from Haldir's body, that ached for him and only him, was pure agony.  
  
"I assume," Legolas stated when he was standing at the foot of his bed, not at all concerned about his nakedness, "that you wish me to tend to them? Listen to what they have to say and such?"  
  
"Yes, my Lord," the guard spoke completely and most rigidly poised. In the back Haldir snorted, suppressing laughter.  
  
Slowly, legolas hand reached for the dagger.  
  
"Well then," Legolas spoke, looking at the dagger for a moment, "I shall greet them."  
  
In a split second his hand raised the dagger and flung it with deadly precision between the elf guard's eyes, the blade cracking the skull where it impacted.  
  
"Only you will not be alive to see it," Legolas stepped over the body grabbing his robes, Haldir following him looking quite shocked.  
  
### 


	10. Part 10

This is disgustingly short I know, but it is a very important piece in the story... always remember, nothing is what it does not seem.

  
  
  
  
  
  


With much poise and elegance, Legolas stepped through the door looking in the round.  
  
""Well, my love, it seems we have many a guest in our humble abode,"" he smiled into the round, ""I am very glad you could enlighten us with your presence.""  
  
The two elven lovers entered the large black hall meeting many pairs of surprised eyes. About a dozen guards stood around Celeborn, Galen and a very confused looking Aragorn. To Legolas'' surprise, Aragorn''s hands were bound with slender elven ropes, which ends were grasped tightly in Galen''s fist.  
  
""Ah, Galen,"" Legolas extended his arms in welcome, ""you have brought me a present. How thoughtful of you.""  
  
Yet their eyes met not his but were firmly planted on a spot behind him. Legolas followed the path of their eyes to meet his very naked elven lover standing proudly in the middle of the hall. A loving smile replaced the fake one Legolas had for Galen.  
  
""Beautiful, is he not?"" He turned his head, ""a robe for my lover. I do not wish his perfect body to be stained by their looks any longer.""  
  
A guard disappeared for a brief moment and returned from Legolas'' chamber with long midnight blue robes. Small stars were stitched carefully upon it. When Haldir put it on, he looked as though submersed in the starry night sky.  
  
""Now,"" Legolas turned his attention back to his ''guests'', ""what brings you here so willingly?""  
  
""My Lord,"" Galen bowed, ""we bring you the King of Gondor as a token of friendship.""  
  
""We?"" Legolas cocked an eyebrow looking quite directly at Celeborn.  
  
""The elves of Lorien are at your command, my Lord,"" Celeborn spoke monotonously.  
  
""Is that so?"" Legolas turned back to Galen, ""what sort of spell is this?""  
  
Galen smiled broadly, ""t''is but a simple brew. Clears the mind of its drinker and replaces it with the will of the potion master.""  
  
""Chain him,"" Legolas barked, ""I do not wish for any unpleasant surprises.""  
  
Two orcs hobbled toward Celeborn, heavy chains in their hands.  
  
""My Lord,"" Galen interrupted, ""t''is not necessary. I assure you the potion is quite potent. He will not come out of this state unless given a strong antidote which still renders him unconscious for a few hours.""  
  
""Indeed,"" Legolas however did not call the guards back, ""I shall bind him and consider it a matter of safety until we have refreshed out…… friendship.""  
  
Galen nodded, ""aye, my Lord. A wise decision.""  
  
""Perhaps,"" Haldir spoke approaching Legolas from behind, his hands resting on his lover''s shoulders, ""a drink.""  
  
Legolas turned to look at Haldir and nodded. Their eyes sparked for a moment with a shared knowledge that could not have been revealed by any present. Then the former high guard of Lorien slipped into Legolas'' chamber, grasping the small red bottle and four small drinking bowls, made from red crystal and engraved with the same golden dragons as the bottle.  
  
Haldir''s eyes searched for a moment and lit when they found a small phial filled with a few granules of a black substance. Carefully, he removed the glass stopper, tilting the phial over one of the bowls. The tiny noise heard brought a smile to his face as he placed the bowls and bottle on a tray and made his way back into the hall.  
  
He was greeted by a mysterious smile upon Legolas'' lips and placed the tray in the hands of a guard. Then he languidly moved behind his lover, his tongue flicking across the pointed ear before he sucked upon the graceful lobe.  
  
""It would be unwise to drink from the glass that bears a tiny crack, my love,"" he whispered through his teeth and leant into a passionate kiss.  
  
""You taste like honey,"" the Mirkwood prince commented with a gentle smile as Haldir moved behind him, his arms wrapped around the slender waist, ""and now, we shall drink.""  
  
""Allow me,"" Galen spoke as the guard moved to pour a glass, ""the clumsy orc will but spill the drink all over.  
  
The young woman pulled the finely carved stopper from the neck of the bottle and smelled the syrupy liquid.  
  
""Dragon''s blood,"" she whispered, ""as I had imagined.""  
  
""A luxurious choice in drink, my Lord,"" she added with volume, ""the drink made from the forbidden fruit.""  
  
""There is but one plant in the lands of Middle Earth,"" Legolas added with a smile.  
  
Slowly, Galen tilted the neck of the bottle over the four bowls, pouring but a small drink into each bowl. Elven eyes saw the small morsel dissolve instantly into the rich liquid. The woman offered both Haldir and Legolas a bowl and pushed one into the hands of the Lord of Lorien. When she returned the tray and held the bowl in her hand, a small crack could be seen at the side of it, but a hairline fracture not noticeable to the non elven eye.   
  
""To a new darkness to cover all of Middle Earth,"" Galen rose her bowl, ""and to the beginning of the end,"" she smiled a wicked smile and downed the liquid in one swig.  
Legolas and Haldir followed her example, however their lips entwined immediately after savouring the last bit of taste.  
  
""Drink,"" Galen looked at Celeborn who as though in a trance lifted the bowl and emptied it.  
  
With a smile a small pouch disappeared into her sleeve. It had begun.  



	11. Part 11

Galadriel wandered through the darkened halls. The call had been clear inside her mind. It had come sudden, nearly over taking her. It had begun; she could smell it in the air, feel it in her every bone. Darkness was to wash over Middle Earth and none could stop it now.  
  
She looked at Nenya upon her finger. The ring would not betray her, but she was uncertain whether she was strong enough not to betray the ring. She thought of her husband as the small mithril band of the Silmarils sparkled in the darkness of the tunnels. Tears flowed from her heavenly blue eyes, for she knew what she was about to face. She knew that this was the end.  
  
Slowly she pushed open the door.  
  
"Ahhh," Galen smiled and extended her arms, "the Lady of Light joins us n this important eve."  
  
Galadriel's eyes widened as she saw her husband standing tall and proud beside a bound Aragorn. Yet in his eyes there was no spark or recognition. He seemed to neither notice nor acknowledge her presence.  
  
"Have a drink, my lady," Galen placed a cup of Dragon's Blood in Galadriel's hand.  
  
Suspiciously, Galadriel's eyes made the round. Haldir and Legolas were standing a bit to the side from all, more involved with each other than what was happening. Aragorn stood beside Celeborn, his eyes seemed blank but Galadriel felt a tiny spark when she looked upon him. A spark of hope, not all was yet lost, but the end was inevitable.   
  
The quiet room was interrupted by a loud bang as the large wooden doors to the hall flung open smashing into the barren walls.  
  
"My Lord!" an elven guard exlaimed, "my Lord! I need to speak with you!"  
  
Legolas head snapped around glaring at the guard for he had been interrupted tasting his lover for the second time within but a few hours. However, when he saw the dire need and fear in the guard's eyes he reconsidered his reaction.  
  
"What is it?" he spoke.  
  
The guard glanced at Galen, then spoke to Legolas in quick, almost panic struck words:   
  
"The peoples of Middle Earth are at war my Lord."  
  
"Yes," Legolas nodded, "the final battle which we shall leave in vict-"  
  
"No, my Lord!" the guard interrupted so rudely that Legolas contemplated impaling him with a dagger, "they are at war with each other. Men against men, elves against elves, dwarves against dwarves. T'is chaos, my Lord, they destroy everything in their path be it good or evil."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"All people are at war, my Lord."  
  
"What is your name my friend?" Legolas was curious now.  
  
"Ornurion, my lord," the young elf looked down upon Legolas.  
  
"Tall you are indeed," Legolas leant his head to the side, "tell me slowly what it is you have seen."  
  
"My company and I were riding along the borders to Rohan that had fallen when we noticed a great blaze in the distance. My Lord, the men have forsaken each other and are burning down the lands. Fangorn is ablaze and where ever we rode, destruction was in progress. The men are fighting each other and the land as though driven by madness. Their eyes are blackened and their bodies reek of decay. Word has come from Moria and the Misty Mountains that the caves are collapsing upon will of the mountains. It snows where snow has never been seen before and heat melts the white glaciers of Caradhras. The Anduin is flooding all the lands around and Lothlorien has been abandoned. My Lord, the world is coming to an end, I can feel it," Ornurion leant closer to whisper into Legolas' ear. "T'is her my Lord, I saw her speak to the men before. Something from her pouch has been put into the wells of the lands sending all into madness. Middle Earth will be in ruins before the end!"  
  
Ornurion's eyes widened as the top end of a wooden staff cracked the back of his skull open.  
  
"Minions these days," Galen sighed, "talk too much for their own good."   
  
She stepped over the twitching corpse motioning the by-standing orcs to remove the body that slowly began to stain the floor with deepest crimson.  
  
Legolas looked at Galen, his eyes darkened with anger.  
  
"What is this?" he hissed, "what is it that you are doing?"  
  
Galen merely smiled, "ahhh my dear friend, little do you know."  
  
"You did all this. You are destroying Middle Earth! Yet you gave me the power, you gave me everything and above all the power to keep my lover bound to me!"  
  
"Legolas!" Haldir exclaimed from behind him, his eyes sparkling with shock, "you promised you would not talk to her! You promised me upon thy life and love!"  
  
"Yes, Legolas," Galen still smiled, "you promised him that indeed. Yet you came to me and sealed this deal with me. All power to you in exchange to something just as precious."  
  
"Just as precious?" Haldir looked puzzled between the two, "what is this you speak of?"  
  
"I took her to bed, Haldir," Legolas looked into the orbs of green, "I took her to bed for she promised me the power to keep you close, to have you forever."  
  
Both elves and Galen were so involved in this argument that they did not notice Galadirel's quiet steps over to where her husband and Aragorn stood. She gently touched the king's arm. Aragorn's eyes met hers as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently.  
  
"Keep it safe," she whispered.  
  
To her husband she turned then, taking his cold hands into hers. Aragorn for the first time noticed that she stood as tall as he. Her lips brushed gently against his, kissing him lovingly, yet they never parted.  
  
"Darkness within the bearers is too strong," she whispered, "we all must perish. Leave none alive, my lord, my husband, my eternal love."  
  
Celeborn but nodded, for he did not wish for Galen to notice that the potion had long worn off, leaving him quite capable of independent thought. His heart wept for his beloved for he knew he had lost her. His hand closed around the dagger in his belt as he stole one last kiss from his wife. Then the blade sliced her throat swiftly, severing muscle and bone in a single cut. Galadriel fell silently to the ground.  
  
"None of this is real, my love," she spoke inside his mind and then she died.  
  
The blade fell to the ground making enough noise to catch Galen's attention. The green-clad woman turned around.  
  
"You did not!"she spoke, trembling with anger, "you killed her! How could you have killed her?!"  
  
"You are not the only one concealing their true face, Galen," Celeborn stepped around the body of his wife, "Galen i Istari, you had me fooled. You had us all fooled. Even had me wish to kill Legolas. All our weaknesses were known to you and you played them against us. You knew Legolas could never live in darkness as long as he loved Haldir. There was but one way to bring him to darkness, if his lover tried to kill him. Yet not even you expected their bond to be so strong that Haldir would forsaken the light and join his beloved in eternal darkness. You knew I would move mountains to bring my wife safely back into my arms, yet dead she lies before you. You have underestimated the powers you played with."  
  
"A pawn in a game of chess," Legolas looked at Haldir and Celeborn, "nothing but pawns to a band of gold."  
  
Haldir lowered his gaze as Legolas' eyes met his, "you mistrusted me so that you would risk all of Middle Earth to keep me by your side."  
  
"What have I done," Legolas lifted the golden band with his hand, extending his palm, "take it if you will, I need it not. I was blind and foolish."  
  
Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at the band. He felt like a naive child, no more than a man corrupted by the power of the ring. The gold band sparkled and winked at him, when Haldir reached for it, then it dissolved into his hand.  
  
"Oh yes," Galen smiled, "I did indeed underestimate you. However, t'is too late now."  
  
Legolas eyes turned black as an sudden wind swept through the room, a wave of energy pulsing through him, all consuming of all that had been light and good, he fell to the ground, panting, blood spilling from his lips. Haldir's eyes widened when he saw his lover's hair had turned as black as night, matching eyes void of all colour, endless depths, holes inside his being.  
  
"Precious!" a small voice shouted from across the hall.  
  
"Mr Frodo, no!" Sam tried to stop Frodo who charged across the hall towards Legolas.  
  
It took merely one movement of Galen's hand and the hobbits were stopped in their track and dragged to the side by two orc guards.  
  
"Before I will handle the former bearer of the ring," Galen's smile seemed to have been frozen onto her face, she turned to Celeborn and Aragorn, "there is a matter I have to discuss with you."  
  
Celeborn picked the dagger from the ground in one fluid motion and stood in front of Aragorn.  
  
"What matter would that be?" he hissed.  
  
"You just answered my question," Galen's staff pointed at Aragorn, "I thought she would give the ring to her beloved husband. Yet, she somehow knew that you were tainted after that... incident inside the cave. Nenya..."  
  
The ring inside Aragorn's hand began to glow, obeying the call of the istar.   
  
"No," Aragorn took a step back, "you cannot have this. You changed the world. T'is not supposed to be like this. Only now I see clearly."  
  
His hand tightened around the ring.  
  
"You cannot have Nenya. You will not have her essence."  
  
"You are quite sure of yourself, mortal," Galen placed the staff upon Aragorn's chest, "I could kill you this very moment."  
Galen yelped with surprise as Celeborn stabbed the dagger into her shoulder. The metal sank deep into her flesh, saturating her with pain. With one hand she ripped the dagger from herself, the other spun the staff in a swift curve across Aragorn's chest. The man stumbled backwards, breath was forced from his lungs. As he fell he felt the ring slip from his hand. Celeborn's reflexes were too fast for anyone to react; he caught the ring midair and panted realizing the same moment it touched his flesh what he had done. The ring dissolved into him.  
  
Galen's twisted smile sickened him as she stepped close caressing his back gently.  
  
"Oh Nenya, my beloved Nenya, come play with me," she kissed Celeborn's lips.  
  
The Lord of Lorien felt as though he was split in half. Claws ripping through his flesh, tearing him from his bones as he felt Galen's lips upon his. Then he felt light and free and he knew he had failed. Hope flickered in his eyes when he saw Aragorn stir on the ground.   
  
'Not all is yet lost,' he thought, 'there is still hope.'  
  
Then the Celeborn sank to the ground and death crept across his green eyes, glazing them with a white shimmer. In his place stood a young woman, like sheer was her body, not yet manifested. Her face s pale one could see through her. Long dark hair was laced with vines of green and earthen tones. Her body was clad in growths of the forest flowing about her rather than proper clothing. Her eyes were white and without depth.  
  
"Nenya, my sister," Galen smiled.  
  
Nenya looked upon Galen with surprise.  
  
"Come to me, my sister," Galen touched the misty figure and with a small cry, Nenya and Galen melted into one. Galen's eyes turned white, her green robes fell from her revealing a dress of flames licking across her body. The red hair was blown by an unseen wind, flickering like a crown of fire around her head and down her back.  
  
"NARYA!" bellowed a voice from across the hall.  
  
There stood Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. His raven hair flowed down his back, his eyes were of the brightest blue one could imagine. He still wore dark leather trousers, but his sculpted chest and quiet feet were bare. Upon his finger was Vilya, her blue shimmer basking the entire room in an eerie twilight.  
  
The guards vanished, the orcs disappeared. The doors of the hall flung shut. No light could penetrate from the outside. All the torches hissed and vanished into smoke. The bodies of Galadriel and Celeborn dissolved into thin air. Left were only the hobbits, the three elves, Galen and Aragorn.  
  
"T'is too late, Lord Elrond," Narya's smile had vanished, her face now looked peaceful and in absolute control, "there is nothing you can do now. I will take my sister to me and then I shall take The One. Together, we will destroy Middle Earth as a token to the Great Evil."  
  
"Melkor altered time and space for you, so he could create chaos through you. You are nothing but a tool." Elrond spoke quietly, his voice nearly a whisper. "He will bind you back into a ring and draw upon you as he pleases. Freedom as you know it now will be lost."  
  
"Spare me!" Narya spat, her flames growing in intensity trying to fight against the blue shimmer, but Vilya heeded not, "I shall take The One before I take her. She knows she cannot disobey him."  
  
Narya turned to look at Legolas who still knelt upon the ground, his fists white as he clenched them. The black hair fell upon his face hiding his tortured features. Haldir still stood beside him, one of his hands hovering above his shoulder as though he was feeding him with energy.  
  
"Precious, no!" Frodo exclaimed, again trying to charge across the hall to get to Legolas, but two pairs of arms grabbed him, pinning him firmly to the floor. He writhed beneath their touch, screaming out with a voice shrill and high-pitched.  
  
"Precious!" the young hobbit grabbed the dagger from Pippin's belt. With unexpected strength he snapped forward the blade about to slice through Pippin's heart when he suddenly stopped. His blue eyes widened in disbelief.  
  
"I am sorry Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered into his ear, catching the light body in his arms.  
  
"What happened, Sam?" Frodo's voice was like his own again.  
  
"You're free now, Mr. Frodo, you're free." Sam cradled the hobbit gently.  
  
"That is good them Sam," Frodo smiled as blood trickled from his lips, "Thank you, Sam."  
  
Frodo closed his eyes as his life escaped his lips with a last breath. His body dissolved into a million tiny sparks of blue and gold.  
  
"I cannot," Haldir whispered.  
  
"You... must," Legolas panted, "I cannot hold on much longer."  
  
Haldir dropped to his knees, "by Elbereth do not make me," his head fell against Legolas' shoulder, "please do not ask this of me, my love."  
  
"I beg you, Haldir," Legolas whispered, "for your sake, for mine, for Middle Earth's, save us all."  
  
"I cannot bear to lose you," Haldir wept against the shoulder, "I cannot."  
Legolas hand weakly caressed the golden waterfall of hair, "if you do it not, you will lose me and all that is dear to us both. I beg thee."  
  
The raven and the golden elf wept in each other's arms.  
  
"Narya," a female voice sounded from Elrond. In front of his form stood a woman, ethereal and sheen, her face as white as her hair. The ring had vanished from his hand.  
  
"Vilya," Narya smiled and extended her arms in hope, "come to me my sister."  
  
Vilya smiled a loving and understanding smile, then shook her head slowly and fell backwards into Elrond, whose eyes turned white, his hair suddenly laced with strands of silver. The surge of power was like a shockwave through the room.   
  
"NO!" Narya screamed, her flames all consuming about her and in panic her white eyes fell upon Legolas and Haldir.  
  
"T'is too late," Legolas shook his head and leant back against Haldir. Their lips met in a passionate, consuming kiss. Celeborn's dagger sparkled in Haldir's hand, a shard of glass from the drinking bowls in Legolas'.   
  
"NO!" Narya screamed again, when the blade and glass sliced through the lovers' flesh and into the muscle of their hearts.   
  
"Aragorn!" the voice of Vilya and Elrond sounded melodically through the twilight.  
  
The king had picked up the staff and before Narya was able to register him; he threw all his weight and strength behind this one final blow. The staff connected with Narya's throat the very same moment Elrond extended his arms to either side of him.  
  
The screeching noise was unbearable. For a moment the world was basked in flame and shadow, then it turned glistening white, like snow in sunlight. Then all turned black for eternity.  
  
The End.  



	12. Epilogue

Epilogue:  
  
"So all is well then, Gandalf?" Elrond inquired the old wizard as they sat together in his study in 

Rivendell.  
  
"As well as it can be, considering the current threat," the wizard replied drinking water from a silver goblet, "Frodo is on the mend and the Council will happen as soon as all arrive. Then we shall decide what happens to the ring."  
  
Elrond placed his hand upon Gandalf's shoulder, Vilya sparkling cheefully on his finger: "that is not what I meant, my olf friend."  
  
"Oh yes," the wizard pulled a small pouch from his robes, "she is contained herein."  
  
He held up a small amulett. T'was a small mithril ring with a fiery red stone upon it encaged in a cristal which was held by claws of mithril and attached to a silver chain.  
  
"She shall not be freed again."  
  
Elrond nodded, "t'is good then."  
  
"Yes indeed it is," the old wizard pondered, "are all accounted for?"  
  
"Yes," the Lord of Imladris spoke, "though the fates have changed for two of them."  
  
"They deserve happiness."  
  
"As do we all."  
  
"My friend are you worried?"  
  
"I feel as though t'is not over yet."  
  
"Do not worry yourself, they are safe where they are now. The ring shall not tempt him again."  
  
***  
  
"Ah Lothlorien," Legolas extended his limbs, sprawling out in the golden light of the sun, "t'is most beautiful in winter time with its golden foliage."  
  
Haldir but smiled and kissed upon his lover's chest. Butterfly kisses trailing up towards the fragile line of his jaw, then melting into full red lips. A passionate kiss linked their soulds, bodies and hearts in an eternal embrace.  
  
"The company has arrived in the city today," Legolas spoke as Haldir kissed upon his neck.  
  
"Yes," Haldir licked along the pointed lobe, "they say the mighty Glorfindel is with them. Perhaps we shall find time to look for them later. But now I-."  
  
Legolas' lips caught him in a passionate kiss drawing Haldir back to the ground. The two lovers entangled in their passion. Raven coloured locks mingling with golden waterfalls for all eternity.  
  
The End. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
